Project Pandora's Box
by Sora Blade707
Summary: Arthur, Matthew, and Francis are the best agents in their countries. What happens when they get transferred over to a top secret branch somewhere in America? They begin to doubt their ability. USxUK, FraCan, and others.
1. Episode 1: Project Pandora's Box I

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts (maybe?)

**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)

**Summary:** Arthur, Matthew, and Francis are the best agents in their countries. When they get transferred over to a top secret, high security branch in America, they begin to have their doubts.

**England:** Oh, great. Now you're doing _two_ at the same bloody time?!

**Me:** Yup~!

**America:** You're probably going to die. ._.;

**Me:** Yup~!

~*~*~*

_Episode 1: Project Pandora's Box (Part 1)_

~*~*~*

Arthur Kirkland sighed and ran his fingers through his pale blond hair. He rubbed his tired, emerald eyes and tried not to think about his last mission. That backfired and he groaned before he walked into the kitchen to make his morning tea.

The mission had been incredibly easy: protect the museum, its artifacts, and the occupants. That particular museum was having a party to show off all of the artifacts it owned, but the centerpiece was a medium-sized, ivory statue of Anubis. Legend stated that the statue was cursed, although Arthur couldn't remember what the curse was exactly.

It was the damn statue that had caused the problems. Everything had been going well that night, until Arthur had gone to take a look at the statue. That was when he noticed something dark about it. He had sensed _something_ off about the Anubis statue. It was only when Arthur saw what appeared to have been a ghost behind the statue that he acted on instinct. Funny thing was that nobody else noticed that Anubis was starting to turn pitch black.

Still, Arthur had grabbed the statue, calmly telling the others that it was secret service business, and power-walked up to the roof. When he got to the roof, two men were waiting for him. Needless to say Arthur was surprised, but they said that they were from the government and he could do nothing but give the statue to them. He had given them Anubis, only to have them put it inside a stainless steel suitcase. Arthur could have sworn that when they put it inside, he heard a screech of both anger and pain.

Explaining what had happened to his superior got him suspended.

That was why Arthur was currently at his apartment with nothing better to do.

"Oh, bloody hell," he cursed when the phone started ringing. Arthur sighed, poured himself a cup of tea, and went to answer the phone. "Arthur Kirkland."

"Arthur, you are one lucky duck right now," the deep voice of his superior made him forget what he was doing. Why the hell was he getting a call from him?! "You are being transferred over to a high security branch in America."

"W-what?!" Arthur sputtered, almost choking on his breath. The man on the other line chuckled at his reaction.

"You were recommended by a couple of agents last night. From what they were saying, it sounded like they needed you over there," came the cryptic reply. Arthur wanted to ask more, but he was cut off. "You're plane will be leaving in an hour. I suggest getting to the airport ASAP, instead of bothering with packing."

The man hung up, leaving Arthur to stare blankly at the phone. Things were either looking up for him, or they were only going to go downhill from there. The knock at the door interrupted his train of thought and he briskly went over to open the door.

"Just this one, sir," the person in charge of the mail told him. Arthur thanked him and closed the door. He stared at the envelope as though it would bite him (and with his luck, it might actually do that). The agent knew what was inside it and sighed.

_America, here I come._

***

The long flight to Phoenix, Arizona was long, dull, and exhausting for the blond Briton. Arthur sighed in relief when he got off the plane and into the terminal. That was when he noticed that there was someone waiting for him, if the white board that had "Arthur Kirkland" in big, red letters was anything to go by. Only slightly annoyed, he went over to the person holding up the sign.

"Good, you're here. We still have a little bit to wait, though. Still got one more person to wait for," the man gruffly told him. He then pointed to a seat next to another, younger man and Arthur obediently sat next to him.

This youngster had blond hair that was kind of…poofy and reached to a few inches above his shoulders. His eyes were a merry blue and wore glasses. The clothes he wore were casual, unlike Arthur's (he always wore a suit). He seemed kind enough.

"Good morning. I take it you were assigned here, too?" he asked softly. It took a moment for Arthur to figure out whom he was speaking to.

"Ah, yes," Arthur replied, and fidgeted a little. The Canadian smiled in understanding. He looked as though he had been assigned over long-distances before, if his relaxed posture was anything to go by. He also seemed like he was going to say something, but they were interrupted.

"Bonjour! Pardon my tardiness, but it takes a bit longer to get here from France," the light French accent caused them to look at the newcomer. He had caramel-colored hair, although it leaned more toward the blond side of the color. His eyes were a bright, almost seductive blue. The French man's clothes were casual, but they seemed to make him stand out in a crowd.

"M-maybe we should introduce ourselves before leaving. I'm Matthew Jones," Matthew said to the two agents. He was nervous, that was apparent, but he was strangely calm about the re-assignment.

"Ah, Mattheu, such a handsome name! I am Francis Bonnefoy!" somehow, somewhere, Francis had pulled out a red rose, kneeled to the ground in a fashion that made him seem like he was proposing, and held out the flower to Matthew. His face had blushed a bright scarlet and shyly took the rose. Arthur was only slightly disturbed by the French man.

"Right. I'm Arthur Kirkland," Arthur stated bluntly, merely nodding his head in greeting. He sincerely hoped that he wouldn't get a rose. That hope came true, but somehow he wished it hadn't. Getting a rose was preferable to having his ass groped (although, Arthur's reaction to the grope was stomping on Francis' foot as hard as he could).

"If you lunatics are ready to go, we have a cab to catch," the burly, mocha-colored man told them. His words made all three of them sheepish as they followed him out of the airport.

***

Even though it took them about five minutes to reach their destination, it felt like an eternity to the three agents. The silence that was between them was awkward and nervous. In all honesty, they didn't want a repeat of the airport incident if it annoyed the burly man so much.

"Here we are. Good luck, you three," his voice interrupted their thoughts as the cab stopped. Hesitantly, Arthur opened the door and the three got out. As soon as the door was closed, the car took off, abandoning them in the desert. They hadn't noticed, since they were too busy staring at the rundown shack in front of them.

Not seeing much of a choice in the matter, the three agents walked toward the shack. Francis was the one who opened the door, allowing the other two to get inside first. The inside surprised them greatly, since it looked more like the waiting room of a doctor's office and there was more room on the inside than from what it looked like on the outside.

_This…has got to be a joke._ The three thought simultaneously as they looked around the whitewashed room. There was a reception counter and an Italian man was standing there. He hadn't looked up from whatever he was doing, which caused the trio to be only slightly nervous. Abruptly, the brown-haired Italian looked up at them with a bored expression and pressed a button on the intercom next to him.

"The newbies are here," he said before holding out passes for the three, "Show these to the door and go inside."

They obeyed and went to the stainless steel door. There were two holes on either side of the door. When they held up the passes, a blue laser scanned the barcodes and the door hissed before gently opening. The sight that greeted them was…unexpected.

"OH-NOOOOOOOOOOOO! LUDWIG IS GOING TO KILL ME! I FORGOT ALL ABOUT THESE GUYS COMING!" another Italian man who looked scarily like the receptionist ran passed them, his arms loaded down with a stack of papers that went way over his head. The only difference between the two Italians was that this guy's hair was a few shades lighter and had a more pleasant attitude.

"What the hell are you screeching about, Veneziano?" a blond-haired, blue-eyed German had stepped out from behind a bookcase, his arms also laden with paperwork. When he looked at the three agents, he sighed. "Kiku! The new agents are here."

As soon as the German had called, a Japanese man seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He gave them a look before bowing politely to them. Unsure, the three bowed awkwardly back.

"Welcome. Please, follow me. The superior will tell you what you need to know," Kiku told them politely as he turned around and started walking away. Arthur glanced at the other two, who merely shrugged, before they followed the Japanese man.

They were going passed countless bookshelves that seemed to form cubicles until they got to another stainless steel door. Kiku opened the door and said something quietly in Japanese. Of course the three agents followed him inside, and they gaped at the mounds of papers that cluttered the small office. Nothing in the room was organized and it made Arthur twitch just looking at it. The only thing relatively organized were the books sitting on the shelves along the back wall.

Carefully, Kiku walked around the desk and whispered something in someone's ear (the person was shielded from sight thanks to the papers). He then bowed to the hidden person and the other three agents before leaving the room.

"Sorry about the mess," a muffled voice told them and they heard the shuffling of papers. The man chuckled nervously as he walked out from behind the papers. His short hair was also blond and his sky blue eyes were…intense. Arthur just wasn't able to put his finger on it, but discarded the thought. The man's clothing was the plainest of them all, since he was only wearing a white shirt, blue jeans, shoes, and a tie. Although, there was something vaguely familiar about him…and he wore glasses, too.

"A-Alfred?!" Matthew exclaimed incredulously. Francis and Arthur gave him blank looks. He knew this guy?

"Hi Matty!" Alfred replied with a huge grin, "That reminds me. I'm Alfred Jones, Matt's older twin brother. Don't bother telling me your names. We knew you guys were coming."

_Seriously, this has to be a joke…_ Arthur thought as he stared at the American agent. It looked like Alfred was waiting for someone to ask a question. The Briton felt tired all of a sudden. He sighed and braced himself for the worst.

"Would you mind telling us why we're here, exactly?" Alfred just smiled, completely ignoring Arthur's tone of voice. That annoyed him a bit.

"You three are here because you guys can see and hear things most people can't. When I say "things," I mean stuff that deals with the paranormal, occult, and all that jazz," the American told them cheerfully. There was silence.

"I don't think I heard correctly, but did you say that this branch of the government deals with," Francis trailed off before ending with a, "with hocus-pocus?"

It seemed like Alfred was expecting that kind of response. The smile never left him, though, and it was starting to grate on Arthur's nerves.

"I wouldn't say hocus-pocus, but, yeah, that's the gist of it," Alfred replied cheerfully, "This branch is much more dangerous than you realize, of course. So, I need to say that in this line of work, you either get killed, lose your mind, lose your soul, or much, much worse. You see, we're in charge of gathering not only genuinely magical artifacts, but also to make sure the mythological creatures don't cause mass mayhem and panic."

During the rant (which he said in a scarily cheerful tone), the American had dug out a laptop from a huge pile of papers. Alfred gestured for the three to follow him and exited his office. Arthur's head was spinning by the fast pace he was setting information-wise. He wasn't quite sure what to believe.

"All right! Allow me to introduce you to my sadly overworked team! You met our receptionist, Romano, of course. I'd watch what you think around him; Romano is one crazy telepath," the young man commented, still wearing that infernal grin, "He's the only one on my team who can communicate via telepathy with other telepaths and his brother. Basically, Romano is not just reception, but our little security alarm, too.

"You've also met Kiku. He's our lab and research specialist. If you have a question or need a sample analyzed, then he's the guy you call. You can also ask send him a piece of an artifact if you need to know its past. Kiku is wonderful at reading the past of objects and can tell a fake from the real deal.

"Ludwig is the German and you'd better remember him if you need a warrant. He'll get it to you in less than an hour, usually. Don't ask him how unless you want to take over his position. Anyway, Ludwig has the manipulative aspect of telepathy, but he's got a strict moral code on that. Don't worry about it too much.

"Finally, Veneziano is Romano's younger twin brother. He doesn't have telepathy, but he does get visions of the possible future. Veneziano is in charge of phone calls and case files, with Ludwig's help. He's the guy you'll be going to if you want to dig up some dirt on someone," Alfred had finished the lengthy introductions in a fond voice. He had been leading them down the maze of bookshelves in a confusion of twists and turns. Arthur was vaguely wondering what they were getting themselves into.

Eventually, they stopped at a rusted, iron door. The blond American had taken out his ID card and swiped it through the card reader. Then a blue laser shot out from the wall and into his eye, apparently scanning it for identification purposes. Finally, with a hiss and a mournful groan, the door opened on rusted hinges. Alfred winced.

"Sheesh, we need to oil those things at some point," he muttered before going inside. When all four of them were inside, the three newbies gaped in astonishment. It looked as though they had stepped into a warehouse that stretched on for eternity. Alfred leaned against the black, metal railings, a soft smile on his face.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Project Pandora's Box."


	2. Episode 2: Project Pandora's Box II

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (2/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts (maybe?)  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary:** Arthur, Matthew, and Francis are the best agents in their countries. When they get transferred over to a top secret, high security branch in America, they begin to have their doubts. So, they have to wonder what exactly the first mission is going to entail.

**England:** …

**Me:** *writing happily away*

**America:** *randomly whispers in her ear*

**Me:** That's a good idea! *keeps writing*

**England:** *face palm*

~*~*~*

_Episode 2: Project Pandora's Box (Part 2)_

~*~*~*

_Arthur: Last time on Project Pandora's Box…_

"_You were recommended by a couple of agents last night. From what they were saying, it sounded like they needed you over there. You're plane will be leaving in an hour. I suggest getting to the airport ASAP, instead of bothering with packing."_

"_Good, you're here. We still have a little bit to wait, though. Still got one more person to wait for."_

"_M-maybe we should introduce ourselves before leaving. I'm Matthew Jones."_

"_I am Francis Bonnefoy!"_

"_I'm Arthur Kirkland."_

"_Kiku! The new agents are here."_

"_A-Alfred?!"_

"_You three are here because you guys can see and hear things most people can't. When I say "things," I mean stuff that deals with the paranormal, occult, and all that jazz."_

"_Gentlemen, welcome to Project Pandora's Box."_

"Amazing! How is any of this possible?" Matthew asked, breaking the silence. The same question had been on the minds of Francis and Arthur as well. Alfred was quiet for a while, the soft smile never leaving his face.

"In all honesty, if it weren't for the fact that we _can_ see this, it would not be possible. Since our sight and hearing are more in tune with the paranormal than other people. But, it isn't just that. See, being so in tune, we develop something we call a 'sixth sense.' A sixth sense could be any number of things, such as telepathy, empathy, visions, heightened intuition," the American trailed off, leaving them to fill in the blanks, "Well, anyway, I'd better show you guys your room."

He grinned hugely at them before leaving the room. Arthur sighed before following; Matthew and Francis were trailing slightly behind him. Once more they went down confusing paths, but the door they got to was vastly different from the doors they had seen thus far. The door was made of steel, which was apparent. Its color, however, was a pale, almost ice blue, and seemed to even radiate coldness.

"Rule one: until you get the feel of this place, just wait out here for Kiku. Rule two: until you are registered as official agents in this branch, I don't suggest touching this door unless you want to be an ice statue for an eternity," Alfred warned them cheerfully (as always). He then swiped his ID card, had a laser scan his eyes, and then calmly opened the door.

Once again, the three agents gaped in astonishment. Instead of a room or hallway, the door had opened up to a very lavish, castle-like hotel lobby. The paneling was made of pure oak, but the floor was made of polished teak. All of the desks and chairs were made out of rich, vibrant maple. The chandeliers were made of pure crystal and constantly played with the light. There was even a winding staircase made out of pure, white marble.

"Ah, by the way, what was that door made out of?" Arthur asked absently, tearing his eyes away from the hotel lobby. Alfred had taken off his glasses and was cleaning them. When he was done and placed them on his face, he looked at the Briton with a small smile.

"Cold Steel forged by ice sirens. You can find Cold Iron anywhere, since that's completely man-made. Cold Steel, however, is primarily used as a safety feature to keep out intruders. Of course, everyone uses Cold Iron everyday, but this branch definitely uses it in the bedrooms, offices, and other important areas. This is because that specific iron can nullify any sort of magic and render the sixth sense useless. It's also great for keeping out unwanted mythological creatures," the blond American replied as he led them up the stairs, "Oh, yeah. You guys can go ahead and choose your rooms. You can't trade rooms after the first night, though, so choose carefully."

Arthur sighed and chose the room at the left side at the end of the hallway. There were only four rooms, though. He noticed Matthew also taking the left door, slightly closer to the staircase. Francis had taken the rightmost door that was as close to the staircase as the rooms could get. Alfred was leaning against the rosewood banister, watching them with a grin on his face.

_Does he _ever _stop smiling?_ The blond Briton thought ruefully as he opened the door. His room was spectacular, just like the rest of the hotel.

There was a four-poster bed with rich, deep green shades if he wanted privacy while he slept. The sheets were forest green with ivy print and seemed to have been made of satin or silk. His pillows were like dark emeralds made out of pure silk. The floorboards were made out of seemingly ancient ash. The walls were panted with a seemingly random pattern of various types of greys, greens, and browns. Actually, it seemed more like his room was in the heart of a forest. In front of his bed was a rosewood chest with floral patterning carved into it. The same pattern was also on the maple wardrobe and rosewood dresser.

Slightly dazed, Arthur gazed out at the window and gasped. Seductive green drapes framed the window and there was an ash bench with dark green cushioning, but that wasn't what he was looking at. Instead, it was the view. His window was overlooking a vast, crystal-clear ocean. The sun was setting, the light playing all across the water, and the reflection in the water was amazingly clear.

_I could get used to this._ He thought to himself in awe.

"Dinner's in five!" Alfred called before going down the steps. Arthur sighed and reluctantly left his room, following the blond American into the dining room. The entire thing felt as though it came out of some sort of movie, and something told him that none of this was a joke.

Dinner was spent in polite conversation, although Matthew and Alfred were whispering excitedly, most likely catching up on lost time. Arthur hid a smile by drinking his tea. After dinner, Alfred told them that they should meet him in the dining room for breakfast at around eight in the morning. He grinned at them before leaving the three agents alone in the "hotel."

"Let's have a mini-meeting in my room, hm?" Francis said as soon as they were sure Alfred wasn't within earshot. Arthur glared at the Frenchman before sighing and getting up from his seat. Matthew chuckled and followed the two men up the stairs.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at how beautiful Francis' room was. The flooring was made out of a wood that seemed like sand at first glance. Francis' bed was a king-sized, four-poster bed (minus the drapes) and was a rich chestnut color. The sheets were obviously satin and were a deep, deep blue. His pillows were made of cerulean colored silk. The walls were a myriad coloring of many shades of blues, greens, and purples. It looked as if the room was located on the ocean floor, really.

The wardrobe and dresser were both made out of teak with elaborate etchings of sea creatures and shells. There was a tall window in the room with deep, purple drapes. Instead of an ocean (like in Arthur's room), the window opened up to a vast forest. Off in the horizon there appeared to be a faint outline of a big city. It was amazing, but Arthur preferred his own room.

"Alfred told me something interesting about these rooms," Matthew whispered, his blue eyes sparkling in open admiration, "They tap into your mind and bring out the themes and colors that relax you the most. The window scene is the same way. However, if the resident changes in personality or something, the layout will change to accommodate the person."

Francis nodded and Arthur could see the sense in it. After all, if they spent a lot of time in their rooms, it would make sense if it would relax the person residing in the room. The blond Briton sighed and sat down on the floor.

"All right, what's all this about?" he asked the Frenchman. Francis was sitting on the bed while Matthew had taken the bench in front of the window. He was silent for a moment, as if he was gathering his thoughts.

"Tell me. What do you think about all of this? Or, more importantly, what do you think of Alfred?" Francis inquired quietly. There was silence all around and he sighed. "Personally, it's all a little difficult to take in. I've decided to do one mission and if I'm not convinced, I'll be heading back to my country. Still, Alfred is…well, not what I'd expect of a top agent. He's so…naïve and trusting, and altogether too cheerful for his own good. Although, he hasn't told us what his sixth sense is."

Arthur sighed. He had been prepared for that sort of question. It was painful to agree with Francis, but he had no choice.

"I'm afraid that I agree with Francis on this one. What about you, Matthew?" the blond Briton asked, turning his emerald eyes to the Canadian's cerulean. Matthew had been too quiet and it worried Arthur.

"No matter what, I'm staying here," Matthew replied, surprising the other two agents, "I haven't seen my brother since I was 11, so working with him in the same branch…it's like a dream come true for me.

"Still, what Alfred is saying is true. I know it is. Ever since he was a child, Alfred has had…vibes, feelings of what's going to happen in the future. He can't see images or hear sounds, but he can feel what's coming. The first and last time Alfred ignored a vibe…well, let's just say that he and I are very lucky to be alive."

Matthew gave them apologetic looks before excusing himself. He left the room and Arthur went with him. The Canadian sighed as the door closed and leaned against the door leading to Matthew's room. His head was down and Arthur wasn't sure of what to say.

"Our parents had a nasty divorce. I left with my mother to Canada and my father took custody of Alfred. My mother and I were the best of friends, but…my brother and father were…not on the best of terms," he whispered sadly to the Briton. Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn't know what Matthew's reasons were for telling him this, but the least he could do was be supportive. Arthur placed a hand on the blond Canadian's shoulder, squeezing it gently before leaving for his own room.

***

"All right! I hope you all had a good night's sleep!" Alfred greeted as he walked into the dining room. The three had just finished eating and were having a pleasant chat, until the young American had burst into the room. Although, Arthur had to admit that he did have a pleasant sleep. It was sounder than usual, which was a pleasant surprise.

The blond American sat in between Arthur and Matthew, his grin plastered onto his face again. Arthur thought it both annoying and scary as to how cheerful he could be in the morning. He sipped his tea as Alfred threw down a copy of a case file in front of each of them.

"Her name is Hannah Johnson, 19 years old, freshman at Ohio State. She is a straight-A student, teacher's pet, the whole angel package. We think that little Miss Angel may have come across some sort of ancient artifact, since she randomly attacked a cheerleader asking for help on a project," Alfred summarized as they looked through the file. It seemed pretty straightforward, except that they had no idea what sort of artifact could be causing the behavioral disturbance. "So, I'm coming with you on this mission. This is just so I can figure out your strengths and weaknesses. So, ready to go?"

The American left them no time when he got out of his chair and started to leave the dining room. Not inclined to navigate the maze of bookcases on their own, the three hurriedly followed Alfred out of the hotel.

***

The flight to Ohio was hell. Arthur's head had been pounding since they had left the facility, which was odd. Now that he thought about it, he noticed that Francis and Matthew weren't looking so good, either.

"You three all right?" Alfred asked in concern. The blond Briton repressed a groan and massaged his temples.

"Headache," Arthur replied curtly. Pain made him moody, so sue him.

"Confused," Francis added, holding his head in his hand. It looked like he had no idea what to feel anymore.

Matthew remained quiet. He seemed to be staring into space and it had a disconcerting effect on them. Alfred sighed, smiling softly.

"Okay, now I understand what's happening. Your sixth sense is starting to awaken fully. Ever since we enter puberty, we suppress our sixth sense so that we fit in, although some people have it so strong that they can't block their sense. Don't worry; once we land, you should feel better as you adjust. For now, it's best if you figure out on your own what you can do with your sixth sense," the young American told them gently. Arthur sighed, not really feeling in the mood to do anything like _that_. Still, it couldn't hurt, and if it got him used to it faster…

Arthur closed his eyes and relaxed. Although the plane was silent, he could hear voices. It was strange, and he was almost sure that he was losing it. Arthur discarded the doubt and blocked out all but one of the voices.

_Seems like the Briton has finally quieted down his emotions._ The thought came unbidden and had a familiar "feel" to it. Instinctively, Arthur knew that it was a thought that came from Francis. If that was true, then…could he have…? He needed to experiment a little more, though. So, the blond Briton blocked out Francis' voice and moved on to Matthew's.

_I…I can't really be seeing this! This is…just like before…_ Flashes of memory temporarily blinded Arthur. He instinctively blocked Matthew's thoughts from invading his, if only to stop the onslaught of memories that threatened to drown out his identity. Curious, Arthur opened himself up to Alfred's mind.

There was nothing. It was as if Alfred _had_ no thoughts or memories. Arthur's eyes snapped open at the same time as Francis'. The blond American met their gazes with a cheerful demeanor.

"I've had training to block telepaths and empaths," Alfred told them, scarily relaxed about all of this. The two agents gave him suspicious looks, but the American was unfazed by it. Instead, he had turned his attention to his twin. "You okay, Matty?"

"It's…weird," Matthew whispered, still staring into space, "I mean, I haven't seen ghosts since that one time…"

"Why are we experiencing our sixth sense now?" Arthur asked a little nicer than last time he spoke. His headache was actually going down. He figured that it was because he was aware of the problem and had found a way to block out everyone's thoughts.

"There's something about the facility that makes it able to awaken a person's sixth sense as soon as they leave the building," the blond American replied absently. He yawned hugely and stretched his arms. It was only then that they could see just how tired the young man was. "Anyway, wake me when we get there, okay? It took me all night to find a good first case and then I had paperwork to fill out."

After that, Alfred promptly fell asleep, much to Arthur and Francis' surprise. Matthew didn't look all that surprised. He must have known it would happen. The Canadian was giving the sleeping blond a fond smile.

"Alfred…he's always overworking himself to exhaustion. He takes on most work to leave everyone else with a little more free time. He's always been like that," the younger twin told them fondly.

"Well, I think he has the right idea," Francis commented with a nod. He then laid down on the airplane couch, trying to get as comfortable as possible. Arthur rolled his eyes, but copied his actions. Matthew chuckled and merely watched the landscape roll by beneath the window.

* * *

NOTE: There are airplanes with couches and chairs and tables, but are usually private airlines. These guys are using one because they work for the government. Also, I am updating this real fast because I've all ready posted it on LJ. :D Aren't you guys LUCKY? XD


	3. Episode 3: Project Pandora's Box III

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (3/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary:** Arthur, Matthew, and Francis are the best agents in their countries. When they get transferred over to a top secret, high security branch in America, they begin to have their doubts. When they get to Ohio for their first mission, things start getting dangerous.

**England:** All right, what the hell? Do you have _any_ idea of where this is going?

**Me:** Uh…no?

**England:** You're hopeless.

~*~*~*

_Episode 3: Project Pandora's Box (Part 3)_

~*~*~*

_Francis: Last time on Project Pandora's Box…_

_"See, being so in tune, we develop something we call a 'sixth sense.' A sixth sense could be any number of things, such as telepathy, empathy, visions, heightened intuition."_

_Does he _ever _stop smiling?_

_"Let's have a mini-meeting in my room, hm?"_

_"No matter what, I'm staying here."_

_"Her name is Hannah Johnson, 19 years old, freshman at Ohio State. She is a straight-A student, teacher's pet, the whole angel package. We think that little Miss Angel may have come across some sort of ancient artifact, since she randomly attacked a cheerleader asking for help on a project."_

"So, this Miss Johnson…where is she right now?" Arthur asked as they drove down the road. The buildings were going by pretty fast, although he'd seen worse when he was in Turkey for one mission. Funnily enough, Francis was the one who offered to drive.

"Local police station. Funnily enough, the cheerleader didn't press charges against her. In fact, Johnson asked to be locked up," Alfred replied, not looking up from his laptop. He and the blond Briton were in the backseat of the Saturn they were renting. Matthew was helping Francis get to the police station. Arthur didn't envy him.

"Wait, she asked to be locked up? Did she say why?" Matthew inquired, turning slightly in his seat to look back at his brother. The young American made a sound as he typed away on his laptop, his eyebrows scrunched up in thought. Arthur rolled his eyes and poked him, bringing the man back to the present.

"Oh! Sorry. Uh, it says here that she wouldn't tell them. Actually, she kept muttering something, but they couldn't tell what she was saying," he told them before going back to what he was doing. The blond Briton rolled his eyes and went back to watching the scenery go by, ignoring whatever the others were saying.

Arthur must have dozed off, since someone was shaking him awake. He blearily looked up and his emerald eyes met intense sky blue ones. Arthur sat up straight and cleared his throat, fighting down his embarrassment. How could he have fallen asleep in the car?!

The four got out of the Saturn and were met by the county sheriff. Alfred grinned and took over as leader. The two talked in hushed tones for a bit before the sheriff nodded and left. Alfred gestured for them to follow.

Inside the building, the four agents were led to interrogation, where a young woman was waiting for them. She had strawberry blonde hair and her blue eyes were bloodshot. There were bags under her eyes, suggesting a lack of sleep for a while. She looked like she had been through hell and back. Poor girl was shackled to the table and was trying her best to appear strong to them.

"Right. Matthew, Francis. I want you two to stay out here and monitor her. Tell us if she's lying or if a particular subject makes her feel something we can use as an advantage. Arthur, you're coming with me to interrogate her," Alfred told them with a grin. Francis and Arthur glanced at each other, but nodded. It made sense if he was going to experiment with how he could best use their sixth senses. For now, they would do as they were told.

***

As soon as they entered the room, Arthur opened himself up to the minds of Francis and Hannah. Francis must have done the same with his empathy. It was Hannah's thoughts that truly troubled him. Her thoughts…they felt as though they were writhing, but they also felt distorted, twisted,_ dark_. It was almost as if something was interrupting her normal thought patterns, forcing them to revolve around one thing in particular.

"Hannah. I'm special agent Alfred Jones. This is my partner, special agent Arthur Kirkland. We want to ask you a few questions concerning the fight between you and the cheerleader, Emily," Alfred told her gently as the two agents sat down in front of her. Arthur sensed no change in her thoughts. It was almost as if she couldn't hear them. "Ms. Johnson, did you come into contact with someone or something strange?"

"N-no, nothing strange. I'm perfectly…fine," Hannah replied shakily, rocking back and forth slightly in her chair. Her eyes had gone wide and she was staring intently at the steel table. Arthur's eyes narrowed. What the hell was going on with her thoughts? They were getting darker and murkier the longer they were in the room with her!

"Are you sure?" at the girl's nod, Alfred continued the questioning with a small smile, "Did you start to feel strange before Emily walked up to you?"

"I said I'm _fine_!" Hannah hissed out, the rocking starting to become more noticeable. Alfred frowned for a fraction of a second before the smile came back. Casually, he placed a hand on the back of Arthur's chair, though the blond Briton was too busy to spare a thought to the young American's movements.

"Just…one last question before we leave," the blond American replied before standing up from his seat, "Does your sense of time feel like it's being…skewed?"

"_I'M PERFECTLY FINE!_" she roared just as Alfred pulled back Arthur's chair. The blond American backed up to the wall, getting out of the girl's reach, and for good reason. Hannah looked like an animal and just about broke the strip of metal connecting the shackles to the table. Her eyes had gone wide and dangerous, and so had her thoughts.

_PerfectperfectI'mjustfineI'mperfectit'sperfectIhavetobeperfectperfectperfectPERFECT!_

_Close it! Close it!_ The Briton didn't think, but acted and closed the connections between Hannah and Francis. It was very, very odd. It seemed as though she knew he was probing her thoughts and lashed out at him. Too bad Arthur closed the connection in time to prevent any harm to his own psyche.

***

Arthur sighed as he held the icepack to his aching head. He had closed the telepathic connections so fast he was experiencing some sort of backlash. His eyes were closed since light was not helping his headache.

"Alfred is one brave man," Francis commented out of the blue. The blond Briton cracked open one of his eyes to give the other agent a funny look. Saying nothing, the Frenchman merely pointed over to where Alfred was. Arthur opened both of his eyes and looked.

Talking to the young man was an older woman with obviously fake blond hair. She was dressed like a lawyer and her shocking blue eyes were filled with rage. Despite her obvious anger, Alfred was talking pleasantly to her with a smile on his face.

"She's pissed at us for somehow influencing Hannah's loss of control. Alfred's trying to take the heat off of us with logic, which is only serving to piss her off even more," Francis told them as he leaned into his chair.

"How the bloody hell can you stand reading other people when I can't even stand reading my own thoughts?" Arthur asked as he closed his eyes. The light was only slightly bothering him, but he was very tired from all that had happened in the interrogation room. He heard Francis chuckle.

"Ms. Johnson had no idea I was reading her emotions. All she knew was what you were doing," the Frenchman replied in amusement. Arthur muttered something darkly under his breath. He heard footsteps approaching.

"Well, that was Hannah's mother I just talked to. I didn't get much out of her, so let's hear what you guys have to say," Alfred reported softly. The blond Briton was grateful for his consideration of Arthur's headache. Still, he felt like he should go first. Too bad Francis beat him to the punch.

"Her emotions were dark and clouded. I couldn't feel anything but anger and self-hatred and I don't know what the cause is," Francis told them with a shrug, "Yet, it also felt like there was something else controlling what she was feeling. I don't know what, but it's a start."

"I couldn't sense anything spiritually. It's almost as if…her original spirit is not within her," Matthew said softly, his brows furrowed. Alfred made a small sound before turning his attention to Arthur.

"Same situation with Francis, except that I couldn't really sense her thoughts. The only time I actually read something was after your last question. It seems like the focal point of her…insanity is perfection," the Briton sighed and took the icepack off of him. There was something else bugging him, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was. He knew about Alfred's vibes, so he didn't question the American's actions in the interrogation room.

_Close it! Close it!_ Arthur's eyes snapped open and he gave the young American a look. Alfred wasn't paying attention as he and the other two agents were in a heated game of rock-paper-scissors. Matthew won, surprisingly, and left with Francis. The young man sighed and held out a hand to Arthur. Arthur rolled his eyes, but accepted the help up.

"Were you the one telling me to close the connections?" the Briton asked softly to his companion. There was a brief moment of silence between them.

"Well, I had a feeling she was going to attack, so I wanted to be on the safe side. There are more ways to hurt someone than with words and physical violence," Alfred replied as they walked out of the police station. Waiting for them was the silver Saturn they were renting. This time, Matthew was driving and Francis was in the passenger's seat.

***

"Where are we going?" Francis asked five minutes after getting back on the road. Alfred yawned hugely before answering.

"Ohio State University. We may as well look around her dorm and ask her roommate some questions," the American shrugged before going back to his laptop, "We may find some clues there."

***

The University was packed and crawling with students. Since neither of them had been to Ohio State, they had to get directions to Hannah's dorm room. Luckily, the receptionist was nice and gave them easy to follow directions. Alfred thanked her cheerfully and led the way to the dormitories.

Upon reaching Hannah's dorm, they were surprised to find a young woman waiting for them. She had bright red hair, light freckles dusting her cheeks, and sad green eyes. The uniform was the standard cheerleader uniform for Ohio State. Was this that Emily girl? Arthur took a peek into her thoughts and answered his own question. Yep, that was Emily.

"Are you the agents that interrogated Hannah?" she asked hoarsely. Arthur really wasn't the best of profilers and he hoped the others were better at it. Still, it didn't seem like she was affected by whatever had affected Hannah.

"Yes. Are you Emily?" Arthur retorted as gently as he could. Emily nodded, still staring intently at the ground. She was leaning against the door, blocking their way inside.

"Emily," Alfred stated suddenly, waiting until he had her full attention, "I have some questions to ask you. Did Hannah start to behave strangely before she…?"

"Now that you mention it…she has been more stressed out lately. I think her dorm mate would know more about it, though," the redhead replied before pushing herself off of the door. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, facing their way. There was a long bandage on the left side of her face. Emily smiled cynically. "I'll probably have a scar thanks to her, but it's nothing to be so upset about. I never wanted to be on the team anyway."

Emily nodded to them and then left them alone in the hall. Glancing at each other, Francis sighed and went to knock on the door. However, the door had opened and instead he almost ran into Hannah's roommate.

She was about 4' 6" with chin-length black hair. Her eyes were crystal blue and looked tired. She wore typical Goth clothing and accessories, which was a bit of a surprise for the three new agents. Alfred took it all in stride and launched into conversation with her once Francis moved out of the way.

"Are you Hannah's roommate?" Alfred asked with a cheerful smile. She looked taken aback by his demeanor and hesitated before replying.

"…Uh, yeah. I'm Kim. What do you want?" Kim retorted as she tapped her foot. The young man ignored (maybe it was more accurate to say that he hadn't noticed) her mood.

"Just need you to answer a couple of questions. Has Hannah been acting strange before she attacked Emily?" the Goth girl sighed in frustration and crossed her arms.

"Yeah. That bitch of a mother had been putting her under a lot of stress. She wasn't usually a perfectionist, until her birthday came around last week. After giving her a gift, that bitch tore down whatever self-esteem Hannah had and threw it back into her face," Kim replied vehemently, taking them by surprise. Alfred frowned.

"Gift? What kind of gift?"

"Some sort of mirror, but it isn't here anymore. I think her mother took it back before the police raided Hannah's room," she sighed, "Look, if you want to look around, go ahead, but I'm going to be late for my Bio class, so…later."

After that little episode, the four decided that it would be a waste of time to look through her room. That said, they made their way back to the car and started to drive toward somewhere they could grab some lunch. On the way to whatever café Francis and Matthew were deciding on, Alfred was busy calling somebody on his cell.

"Yo, Kiku! I'm putting you on speaker," the young American practically shouted before pressing a button, "Can you hear us?"

"_Loud and clear, Alfred-san_," Kiku replied with only a little bit of static. The two men up front fell silent.

"Great! I need you to do some research for me," Alfred said and they heard the frantic typing of a keyboard, "What can you tell me about any artifacts concerning a mirror?"

The man on the other line muttered something unintelligible, but the young American failed to notice. Instead, he waited patiently for Kiku to find something. None of them were disappointed.

"_There is one thing that fits what you're describing and could cause mental instability. Symbolically speaking, a mirror is seen to reflect the true nature of a person. Well, apparently, an alchemist created a mirror to do just that. It's collectively called the Philosopher's Mirror, but it's been lost since it was made in the time when alchemy was starting to lose its power. Anyway, it's said that the Philosopher's Mirror would take the worst aspects of a person and cause them to take control of the way they act. This can only happen when you look into the mirror for extended periods of time_," Kiku reported, much to the shock of the other agents. Alfred whistled in amazement.

"Damn. What a piece of work. Thanks, Kiku~!" the young American lilted before hanging up. He grinned at them, which kind of made Arthur suspicious of the man's motives. "Looks like we'll be looking for Mrs. Johnson after lunch."


	4. Episode 4: Project Pandora's Box IV

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (4/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts (maybe?)  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary:** Arthur, Matthew, and Francis are the best agents in their countries. When they get transferred over to a top secret, high security branch in America, they begin to have their doubts. Are they ready for the show-down with Hannah's mother?

**England:** I have to admit, I'm impressed by your tenacity in this story.

**Me:** …*feels England's forehead* You're…feeling okay…right? You're really England?

**England:** -_- What? Can't take a compliment?

**Me:** From you, caution is needed. ._.;

~*~*~*

_Episode 4: Project Pandora's Box (Part 4)_

~*~*~*

_Matthew: Previously on Project Pandora's Box…_

"_Wait, she asked to be locked up?"_

"_Matthew, Francis. I want you two to stay here and monitor her. Arthur, you're coming with me to interrogate her."_

"I'M PERFECTLY FINE_!"_

"_It seems like the focal point of her…insanity is perfection."_

"_Yeah. That bitch of a mother had been putting her under a lot of stress."_

"_Gift?"_

"_Some sort of mirror."_

"_Looks like we'll be looking for Mrs. Johnson after lunch."_

"All right, so…who knows where the hell Mrs. Johnson is?" Arthur asked irritably when they got back to the car. Lunch had been spent in relative silence, not really wanting to draw attention to them. That wasn't the problem. The problem was _Francis_. He had decided to go ahead and grope Arthur's thigh (the Briton's response had been a well-aimed kick to the shins).

Alfred was grinning again and it was starting to grow on the three agents. They just couldn't imagine him without that goofy grin of his. At any rate, Alfred had pulled out his cell phone and was speaking to someone. When he was done talking to Kiku (at least, that was who Arthur assumed he was talking to), the young American hung up the phone and gave them the directions to the law firm Mrs. Johnson was working at.

"Okay, random question I need answering," the blond American told the group once they were on their way, "What units were you guys in?"

"I was in the BAU. Behavioral Analysis Unit," Francis replied instantly and with a bright grin on his face. Apparently, grins were becoming a contagious disease. Still, Arthur's assumption of the Frenchman was dead on.

"I was working closely with the anthropologists of my country," Matthew said a little shyly. Well, that made sense if he could see the invisible (Arthur wasn't going to say ghosts).

"General agent," Arthur told them with a shrug, "I was usually the man interrogating people. What about you?"

"Me?" Alfred was caught off-guard by that question, "Uh, well…"

He was silent for a long while. Arthur was starting to regret asking the question, since it seemed to be causing the young man a great deal of discomfort. Alfred didn't speak again until they had parked in the parking lot.

"I've always been in this branch of the government. Ever since I graduated from the academy," the young American whispered to them, almost sadly. The moment passed as a grin spread across his face. "Right! Let's grab that mirror and get out of here!"

***

"Tell me I heard wrong. Please, tell me that she _is_ here," Arthur stated in barely repressed annoyance. Matthew and Francis were sharing his feelings, although Alfred was once again clueless. Still, they had to give him the benefit of the doubt. The young American _did_ get a probable area Mrs. Johnson was in.

"Um…no, she isn't h-here," Matthew sighed before getting back inside the car, taking the keys from Francis. The blond Briton smacked his forehead and reluctantly got back in the little Saturn. Alfred chuckled nervously.

"Well, shall we try the park, then?"

***

Traffic had increased, for some strange reason. Apparently, there had been an accident. Arthur and the others were forced to endure 20 minutes of boredom before finally arriving at the park. Well, Alfred had been busily typing away at his laptop during all of that mess.

The four agents stepped out of the car and took a glance around the park. There were barely any trees, mainly just a lot of grass and hills. In the middle was a good-sized fountain and a gate surrounded the park boundaries. Some of the people had brought out picnic blankets and were spending time with friends or family. Others simply wandered around with their significant other.

"Found her," Francis told them, pointing to a solitary woman sitting on the ground. Alfred nodded before popping open the trunk and grabbing a steel suitcase. Arthur vaguely recalled that steel was supposed to nullify magic. It also looked a lot like the case the other two British agents had used to put in the Anubis statue a couple days ago (was it really that recently?).

The four then cautiously approached Mrs. Johnson. Her back was facing them and Arthur tentatively took a peek into her thoughts. The woman's thoughts were angry and dark. It was almost like…

_Like looking into Hannah's thoughts._ Arthur thought grimly. He glanced at Francis and saw that the Frenchman must have gone to the same conclusion. Out of habit, the blond Briton placed a casual hand on the butt of his gun, just in case.

"Mrs. Johnson?" Alfred asked in a quiet voice, his eyes suspicious. Slowly, the older woman stood up from her seat and turned to face them. Her eyes held such a fierce anger and hatred toward them that they had each taken an involuntary step back. In her right hand was an antique, silver hand mirror.

_IMUSTBEPERFECT!_

That time, Arthur didn't need anybody to tell him to close the telepathic connection linking his mind to hers. Nobody could fool him twice with the same trick.

Mrs. Johnson angrily raced toward Alfred and _tackled_ him to the ground. With her free hand, she started to scratch the young man, aiming for his face. Luckily, Alfred's arms were free and he was able to prevent her from doing any damage to his head. His arms would not be so lucky.

Instinctively, Arthur grabbed her from behind and tried to pull her off of the fallen agent. Francis had to help him while Matthew grabbed her wrist, putting pressure on the joint. After a while of that, she let go of the mirror and the young Canadian snatched it before she could recover.

At that time, the two agents had finally been able to pry Mrs. Johnson off of Alfred. Francis pinned her down, ignoring her screeches of anger and the struggle she put up. Arthur, meanwhile, was tending to Alfred. His arms were badly cut and were bleeding profusely.

"Does this always happen to you?" Arthur asked as he pulled out the anti-septic and bandages he always carried around his coat pocket. Alfred chuckled as the Briton dressed his wounds.

"Yup. Although, with you guys here, I won't be the only target," the young American replied with a grin. Arthur rolled his eyes and finished putting on the bandages. "Hey, Matty? Can you put the mirror into that suitcase for me? Just don't look into the reflective side of the mirror."

***

The four agents were completely wiped out and were glad to be on the plane ride back to Arizona. Alfred had told them that after a couple months of therapy, Hannah and her mother should be back to their normal selves. He also said it was a job well done and that he was very impressed by how they handled the situations.

Currently, the young American was asleep. Arthur was surprised that he didn't snore.

"I have to admit that I'm intrigued right now," Francis commented out of the blue, startling Arthur and Matthew from their thoughts, "I think I'm going to stick with this kid. This is the excitement I've been looking for. How about you, Arthur?"

They all knew the young Canadian's thoughts on the matter. Arthur was silent for a while, contemplating the question. Was he going to stay on with Alfred? He had to admit that it was very interesting going around and saving people from something other than the usual. Arthur also felt like he was growing attached to the young American, and he didn't say that about everyone.

"Heh. Looks like he's stuck with all three of us from now on," Arthur said with a small smile. He stretched and then decided to follow Alfred's example of sleeping on the plane. The Briton just hoped that Francis wouldn't pull anything while they were asleep.

_Case #1: The Philosopher's Mirror_

_CLOSED_


	5. Episode 5: Home Security Failure I

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (5/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary: **The three new agents are feeling comfortable with their new line of work. Unfortunately, the new case requires only two people in the field while the others are stuck with paperwork.

**America:** ? Now what are you doing? *genuinely curious*

**Me:** Aw, nothing much. Just writing down the start of a beautiful relationship and—Wait a cotton-pickin' MINUTE! *looks at America* Something's…different today…

**America:** ???

**Me:** …Oh, whatever. Wanna cookie? :D

**America:** COOKIE~!

~*~*~*

_Episode 5: Home Security Failure (Part 1)_

~*~*~*

It was another late night for Alfred and his team. The agents were sound asleep, which was good. They deserved a night's worth of sleep. Alfred sighed as he glanced down at the mounds of paperwork on his desk. Maybe with some new agents he'd be able to get through the worst of it. He would love to have some actual _desk space_ for once.

He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door. Alfred yelled a cheerful "Come in!" and got back to signing a paper (it was something about a new lab assistant from China). After he signed it, a case file was thrown down on the desk. Alfred blinked and looked up at Veneziano.

"It's a brand new case~! The guys upstairs were just telling me that you should get on this ASAP," the Italian reported with a smile. Alfred picked up the file and scanned through the report.

"Huh. Sounds like a case for a telepath," Alfred muttered to himself as he leafed through the pages. He kept reading before looking back up to Veneziano. "Two person case?"

"Mm, yep. We even know what you're looking for. You're looking for a pentagram medallion, quite possibly one of Wiccan origin," Veneziano said cheerfully. The young American nodded.

"So…it's possibly dealing with the five elements and security?"

"Yes, but it isn't the normal security. This pentagram deals with mental stability. Although we would normally ignore the pentagrams dealing with security, mainly because they're harmless, we think that this one is being tampered with."

"Makes sense," Alfred replied as he rubbed his tired eyes, "Go tell Kiku to bring the agents in here after breakfast tomorrow. Oh, and you guys get some sleep tonight."

Veneziano smile got a little bigger and saluted out of habit before running out of the office, closing the door gently behind him. Alfred smiled softly. The young Italian man had been in the military before joining. Ludwig had also been in the military, but as a part of JAG. Kiku used to be a part of NCIS before the paranormal branch got ahold of him.

Alfred yawned hugely as he set aside the case file. He had a long night ahead of him. Damn paperwork…

***

The young American was asleep when Kiku entered the room with the other agents. When at the base, Alfred was a very heavy sleeper. Not even a herd of elephants could wake that man up. There was only one thing that could wake him up.

"Alfred-san, your brother is getting married to Ivan," Kiku said in a monotone voice. Alfred was instantly awake and instinctively went to grab his gun. He chuckled sheepishly when he saw that it was said only to wake him up. Matthew only sighed, a light blush tingeing his cheeks.

"R-right, anyway. I called you guys in here because I have a two-agent case that we need to work on. So, Arthur and I are going to Kansas and the rest of you are staying here to sort through my paperwork," Alfred told them all of this with a cheerful grin. Francis and Matthew were stunned speechless while Arthur was hiding his chuckling behind a cough. "Now that that's settled, we're off!"

And with that said, the young American stood and left the room with Arthur trailing behind him.

***

"Vic's name is Leah White, 16, lived with her dad in Topeka, Kansas. She died about 24 hours ago and COD appears to be drowning. The weird thing is that she wasn't submerged in water. It looked as if her brain had been tricked into thinking that she was drowning.

"Now, there was only one thing taken. It was a medallion in the shape of a pentagram, a gift of her mother, who is of the Wicca faith. The runes inscribed on the pentagram were to ensure mental protection, so why did they fail?" Alfred told the blond Briton. He didn't want to give away all of the answers as to why they were taking on this mission. They were going to be doing this without Alfred at some point, so why not quiz them on the way to the crime scenes?

"Tampered. But how was it tampered?" Arthur asked instantly. That was the other reason Alfred was bringing him along: the blond Briton used to be in the protection part of the FBI. Plus, he seemed like a quick learner.

"And that's the million dollar question," the young American replied with a wink and a smile, "So, let me tell you something about our cases. The cases we receive fall into one of two categories: Artifact Retrieval and Creature Removal. We affectionately call them AR cases and CR cases respectively. Sometimes we get a case that's both AR and CR, but this isn't one of them. This is a possible CR case because right around the time Ms. White died, her boyfriend disappeared."

Arthur frowned. Alfred waited patiently for the Briton to speak. He had a feeling that he was going to ask a question, and Alfred always listened to his feelings.

"So, it's possible that her boyfriend is behind the murder. Why are we bothering with him?" the man asked, tilting his head slightly. Alfred grinned and lay down on the couch (more like sprawled on the couch).

"Mythological creatures in a normal person's eyes look like something similar to the creature. For example, a mermaid would look like a manatee to them. In this case, some creature has a humanoid appearance to our eyes, but looks like a "normal" person to other people," Alfred explained, happy to see the understanding in Arthur's emerald eyes.

There was silence between the two. The young American was trying his hardest to fight off sleep and really couldn't think of a topic they could talk about. Arthur had a pensive look, which was the sole reason Alfred was trying to stay awake. For some odd reason, the young American loved to answer the Briton's questions (the accent really didn't help since Alfred had a soft spot for the accents from the UK).

_More like I like hearing him talk._ Alfred thought, making sure his thoughts were guarded. His old boss had been a telepath and had taught the young man how to block his thoughts (as well as emotions). Anyway, Alfred really did like Arthur, but one thing bothered him. The blond Briton had a bit of a frosty attitude toward everyone. It was almost as if he was scared to bond with the team.

"Matthew told us that you didn't follow a…feeling one time. Would you care to talk about it?" Arthur asked abruptly, jarring the young American from his thoughts. Alfred met the Briton's emerald green eyes. The two stared at each other for a long while before the American broke eye contact. Alfred looked toward the ceiling, his eyes half-lidded and the smile gone.

"One day, Matty and I took a shortcut through a construction zone. I had a bad feeling about going in there, but I ignored it. Halfway through the zone, we got trapped inside a building that was falling apart. If Matty hadn't been able to communicate with ghosts, the two of us…probably wouldn't have survived," Alfred said sadly. He hated reflecting on his past. It was full of so much pain.

Speaking of painful, his back was _killing_ him. He refrained from wincing, not wanting Arthur to worry needlessly. It was an old scar that sometimes caused him pain, but usually only when he reflected on the past. Meaning, Alfred should stop thinking before the pain got worse.

"Anyway, we're going to talk to the father and see what he knows. We still have a few hours before arriving, so…I'm just going to go ahead and sleep. Last night was hell," Alfred told his companion with a small chuckle. He closed his eyes and turned his back to Arthur, hoping he wouldn't have flashbacks while he slept.

***

When the two finally got to Topeka a man met in his late 30's met them. He had short, black hair speckled with grey and forlorn hazel eyes. The man was wearing a police uniform. Alfred hazily recalled that Leah's father was a police officer, so this must be the girl's dad.

"Mr. White, I presume?" Alfred asked cheerfully, holding out his hand. The man smiled a little and took the hand.

"Just…Carl, please. Heard you guys were coming, so I thought I'd drop by and meet you," Carl replied, nodding to Arthur. He nodded back, if only out of politeness.

"You don't mind if we asked you a few questions, will you?" the blond Briton inquired, raising a bushy brow. Carl shook his head. He was expecting questions, which wasn't all that unusual given that he was in the law enforcement business. Out of habit, Alfred turned on the tape recorder in his pocket, just in case.

"Did you notice anything…unusual about Leah's boyfriend?" Arthur continued, taking the lead this time. Alfred hid a smile. He was right about the Briton being a quick learner.

"Not really. He fiddled around with Leah's medallion quite a bit, but I didn't think of it at the time. I did notice that a week before she…she died, the room would drop a few degrees when he was in it," Carl replied with a sad sigh, "Now, I don't believe some of the stuff my wife used to, but I knew that the medallion was the only thing really keeping Leah sane. Her mother's death…well, she took it really hard."

Alfred nodded. Leah's mother must have known that Leah wouldn't cope with her death very well. At least with cancer (Alfred couldn't remember what type of cancer she had), she would have been able to make the medallion before she died.

"Any clue as to where the boyfriend might be?" the blond Briton asked again. Carl smirked and there was a dangerous glint in his hazel eyes.

"He likes being near water, so I would suggest looking around the riverside," he paused, as if considering something painful, "If…if it's not too much to ask, when you catch the bastard, would you…would you return the medallion to me?"

"No problem," Alfred replied instantly, ignoring the look Arthur was shooting him. Carl gave them a small, grateful smile before coughing and straightening up.

"I have to get back to work, but if you need any help," he trailed off and shoved a piece of paper into the young American agent's hands. After, Carl saluted them before striding off.

***

"Uh, Arthur?" the blond American waited until he had the other man's attention, "Can you call Kiku? His number should be on your speed dial all ready."

Silently, Arthur dialed the number and put it on speaker. Two rings later, Kiku answered the phone.

"Kiku! Need to run something by you," Alfred told the Japanese man with a grin, "Right now, all we know is that the creature has a humanoid form, likes hanging around water, and seems to be able to drop the temperature around him by a noticeable amount of degrees. Ring any bells?"

They heard the tapping of keys and a muttered Japanese phrase on the other end. Alfred winced, knowing exactly what the young man was saying (being with Kiku for a while, you start to pick up Japanese). Arthur raised an eyebrow, but made no comment.

"_Well…it's possible that you're dealing with an ice siren. The half-bird, half-human kind. It would explain why the autopsy report said drowning killed Leah, even though she didn't really drown._"

"Damn, that's a confusing thought," Alfred commented with a weak chuckle. It just _had_ to be ice sirens. In general, sirens were the best creatures when it came to mind powers. With Arthur around, it might be easier to deal with a rogue siren. Well, that was saying that the Briton also had the offensive capabilities a telepath could have. "Anything else, Kiku?"

"_Just one more thing. You might want to teach Arthur-san at least the basics of blocking other telepaths,_" Alfred cursed under his breath. _That_ was what he had been forgetting to do on the plane! He had been having a nagging feeling that he was supposed to teach something to Arthur, but it had completely slipped his mind. The American sighed and gave his partner an apologetic look.

"Thanks, Kiku~!"


	6. Episode 6: Home Security Failure II

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (6/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary: **The three new agents are feeling comfortable with their new line of work. Unfortunately, the new case requires only two people in the field while the others are stuck with paperwork. How will Arthur and Alfred fare against an ice siren? BONUS SHORT AT THE END.

**America:** *pokes* When are you gonna tell them?

**Me:** Um…later???

**America:** Maybe…next chapter?

**Me:** …I'll start building that barricade, then.

~*~*~*

_Episode 6: Home Security Failure (Part 2)_

~*~*~*

_How the hell am I gonna explain this?_ Alfred absently thought as he concentrated on the road. He mulled the problem over in his head with Arthur patiently waiting for him. It would have been a helluva lot easier if they had another telepath with them. They didn't, so he would just have to deal with what they had. All Alfred had to do was remember how his mentor explained it to him.

"…Okay. Imagine that your mind is your room. The door to your room is wide open, allowing anybody to get in. So, all you have to do is close and lock the door, but it won't be that simple. You have to push the door closed with all of your might and then lock it fast," the young American instructed, his mind far away. Sure, he kept an eye on traffic, but his mind was elsewhere. Alfred smiled softly, missing the days of when he was with his old teacher.

Alfred forced himself back to the present and risked a glance at the blond Briton. There was no way to tell if he had gotten the trick to blocking his mind. In fact, they wouldn't know how strong Arthur's defenses would be until they confronted the ice siren.

_For his sake, I hope to whatever god or goddess listening to me that Arthur's got it._ He prayed. In all honesty, Alfred truly didn't want to deal with a hostage situation. Generally speaking, sirens were the best at manipulating the unprotected mind. It was how they were able to seduce so many people. Alfred just hoped that the blond Briton wouldn't be one of the unlucky ones to get seduced by the siren.

***

It was when they got their first sight of a small creek that the young American had a feeling about the place. He frowned and pulled over, parking the car off of the road. Arthur shot him a curious look.

"Feeling," Alfred told him shortly as he got out of the car. The Briton followed his example and then stretched out his limbs. They cautiously made their way through the trees, going down at a fairly steep angle. The two had to constantly check their footing or risk falling painfully down to ground level.

When they finally got down, they saw a young man sitting on the bank, his feet submerged in the murky water. Alfred frowned, suspicious. The young man was near the water and if he was the ice siren they were after, then they were in trouble. Any siren near water gets a boost in power. Pain might make a siren lose concentration, so if worst comes to worse, Alfred might be able to _shoot_ the guy.

A twig snapped and instantly alerted the young man. He whirled around, his light brown hair whipping his face. His ice blue eyes were wide. He hadn't been expecting them, that was for sure. Actually, now that Alfred thought about it, it seemed like the young man was…

He couldn't finish that thought when the young siren stood up, giving them both suspicious looks.

"Who are you? What do you want?" the young man demanded a little shakily. Alfred held up his hands, trying to appear like he wasn't going to hurt the kid.

"We're special agents Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland with the Paranormal Investigation Unit, looking into Leah White's death," Alfred noticed the small wince and plowed on, "What about you? What's your name?"

The siren wasn't expecting that and faltered a little. By nature, sirens were a traditional people and rarely used violence. Sure, enough of them went rogue to cause some agents to grow grey hairs prematurely, but a majority of them were peaceful (so long as you respected their traditions). Yet, this siren didn't have the look of a hardened rogue. Alfred had a guess that he was only a mere fledgling, just growing into his powers.

"I…I will not tell you!" he said, shaking a little, "I…meant no harm to Leah! I didn't mean to kill her, but…I…"

"You panicked. You only meant to knock her out, or scare her at best. Instead, you overshot your influence on her. I understand that, but why did you take her medallion?" the young American asked, following his instincts on this one. This was one of the rare cases where he felt like he could talk his way through it instead of getting into a fight. In all honesty, Alfred preferred the non-violent approach, but sometimes he needed to use force in order to protect the people around him.

There were tears in the young siren's eyes, but he made no move to wipe them away. He knew he was in trouble and that he couldn't escape (they had guns and would probably shoot him if he tried). The poor kid was scared and probably incredibly guilty about what he did.

"I…I took the medallion because I was asked to do it. I don't know who, but they wanted many medallions for—" he was unable to finish his sentence when a shot rang out. The two agents ducked into cover and Alfred's eyes widened when he saw the blood pouring from the siren's chest. It had been a clean shot and had instantly killed the poor kid. Alfred looked around, but saw nobody.

"Arthur, do you sense anybody around?" Alfred asked quietly to his partner. There was silence before he answered.

"I can't sense anybody. Either they're blocking or they are all ready gone," the Briton replied, just as quiet as Alfred. He groaned and waited a moment before going out toward the siren.

Alfred was right about it being a through and through shot. There was no pulse. Silently, he took the medallion that had been clutched in the siren's hand. He was about to tell them something very important, but he got killed because of that information. Something big was going on and Alfred wanted to know what the hell it was.

"Through and through. We'll never find the bullet, since it went into the creek and probably shattered on impact. That was one helluva shot, though," the young American commented as he looked off into the direction the bullet probably came from. He frowned. "Sniper, then. He was being watched and got killed for almost spilling the beans."

"Makes sense, but what was he trying to tell us?" Arthur asked before pulling out his cell phone and calling for a coroner. This was going to be a long day.

***

Alfred cracked his neck and shoulders before lying down on the airplane's couch. They had all ready answered multiple questions and given back the medallion to Carl. It was a job well done, despite the death of the unknown siren. There was only one thing that was bugging the young American, but it didn't deal with the finished case. Rather, it dealt with Arthur as a person.

"Hey, Arthur?" he asked, waiting for the Briton to give him his undivided attention, "Can you tell me why you don't get close to people?"

For the third time, their eyes locked together. Alfred tried to convey innocent interest (maybe a touch of concern, too) in his eyes to the blond Briton. Those emerald eyes were unreadable, but no matter what emotion they displayed, Alfred had to admit that they were beautiful. It would have been easy to get lost in them, but the young American didn't want that. He was a little surprised to find that he truly wanted the other man's trust.

"…It's nothing against you. I have a personal reason and I'm not inclined to share it," Arthur replied a tad icily. The blond American stared at him for a moment longer before nodding. He felt that he knew where Arthur was coming from. The Briton had probably had many partners, but they had either died on the job or were moved to another branch, leaving him behind.

_Everybody's entitled to his or her own secrets. You should know that by now, Alfred._ He thought to himself as he tore his gaze away from the Briton. Alfred sighed and closed his eyes.

"It's all right. You can tell me on your own time," Alfred said softly before falling asleep.

***

BONUS SHORT TIME

"Why are we left with the damn paperwork?" Francis muttered as the two agents sorted through the mountains of papers. Matthew sneezed. Some of the papers had acquired a remarkable amount of dust. "It's a wonder that man can find _anything_ in this mess!"

He sighed and then glanced over at the cute Canadian. The job was way too boring for the Frenchman. Still, there Matthew was, just _begging_ to be molested. Best part about it was that Alfred the Over Protective Brother wasn't around to witness anything.

Matthew gave a cute shriek and he sat straight up onto his knees. Francis chuckled deeply. He was not one to refuse a perfect target as the Canadian's ass.

_There are _some _perks to being stuck with this paperwork duty._ The Frenchman thought. Throughout the day, poor Matthew was ass-grabbed by Francis at random intervals. And Francis enjoyed every moment of it.


	7. Episode 7: Who's Got the Agent? I

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (7/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary:** Alfred is really worried about what the siren tried to tell them. To get his mind off of things, he goes on a solo mission. Unfortunately, Veneziano had mislabled the mission. When the other three agents learn this, will they be able to assist the senior agent in time?

**America:** …Are you gonna tell them now?

**Me:** *sighs* Better get it done and over with. Just in case, go to the bomb shelter and wait for me.

**America:** *does as he's told…for once*

**Me:** Right. I am not going to be here Friday through Sunday, so don't expect a chapter until Monday (at the earliest) or Tuesday (at the latest). I might be able to post two chapters on Thursday, but I'm going to the movies that day, so…*moves to the bomb shelter*

~*~*~*

_Episode 7: Who's Got the Agent? (Part 1)_

~*~*~*

"Okay, thanks," Alfred said on the phone before hanging up. He sighed and ran his fingers through his blond hair. All damn night the blond American had been making calls to the other Paranormal Investigative Units practically all around the world. He had just gotten off the phone with Toris, who was going to tell Ivan what was going on (Alfred shuddered).

_I need to get out of here._ He thought as he walked out of his office. His mind was wandering, but his feet knew the way to Veneziano's desk. As soon as he got there, the young Italian was asleep on his desk. Alfred smiled a little.

"Hey, Veneziano," Alfred poked him in the head, "I need a solo case. Got one for me?"

Sleepily, Veneziano went through a drawer in his desk marked "solo." He leafed through the manila folders and pulled out one. Alfred took it and thanked him, but the young Italian was all ready asleep. He smiled again and grabbed the stack of post-it notes, writing down what case he was currently working on. Alfred had learned the hard way that one should always write down what case they were working on when doing it solo.

***

_Elise Beckett, age 17, missing for almost a week now. No body found. Went missing at the high school during lacrosse practice. Witnesses reported seeing her talking to some guy before she went missing. The only thing they found was a Tarot card in the driver's seat of her car. Still, it doesn't look like she was the only one. Apparently, there are similar cases to Elise's. All of them are unsolved, though._ Alfred thought as he went over the case file on the plane. He frowned and tilted his head. There really wasn't much to go on for that case. At least it was in San Francisco, California. He might be able to goof off for a little while.

The young American placed the file on the table in front of him. He then got as comfortable as he could on the couch. For some odd reason, sleep was not coming to him. It usually did when he was on the plane.

Well, it could be because he had that nagging feeling that the case was not a good idea to solo on. It was too late to turn back, so Alfred had to ignore the feeling for now. So, he turned his thoughts toward his teammates.

_It's good to see Matty again._ Alfred thought warmly, a small smile on his face. He had missed his brother terribly. The two used to be inseparable, until that ugly divorce. Mom took Matthew to Canada and dear old dad took Alfred to Las Vegas, Nevada. That was where he learned to fight dirty. Hell, in that school it was either fight dirty or wind up dead on your doorstep.

Still, it had been 14 years since he had last seen his twin brother. They hadn't even been able to contact each other, since they didn't know the other's address. Mom probably intended for that to happen. Alfred couldn't blame her.

_I've only heard about Francis' reputation, but I didn't believe it until I met the guy._ Alfred chuckled. That Frenchman had a well-known rep for molesting other agents and having sex with as many (attractive) people as possible. He was also known to dig up some pretty interesting dirt on others and used it as blackmail material. Francis was definitely a ruthless man. Alfred would have to be careful around him.

Arthur was still a mystery to the young American. It downright _bugged_ him, and for no apparent reason! Alfred frowned. Why did he want to know so much about the Briton? Yes, Arthur was most definitely an intriguing man, but that didn't constitute the intense want—no, _need_—to know more about him!

_Damn it all._

***

The flight had been long and uncomfortable for the blond American. He sighed as he went to the parking lot to pick up his rental car. Alfred hadn't been paying attention to where he was going and wound up bumping into somebody. The person was shorter than him, so luckily the American agent hadn't been sent falling to the ground. Alfred rubbed his head sheepishly and glanced down at the person who fell.

He had fiery red hair and bright green eyes to match. The young man looked about 20, give or take a year or two older (maybe younger). His clothes were light, which made sense considering it was over 80 degrees that day.

"I'm really sorry about that! I wasn't paying any attention," Alfred told him with a nervous chuckle. He held out his hand. His demeanor must have shocked the younger man and he took the proffered hand hesitantly.

"It…It's not a problem," he replied shakily. The young man glanced around nervously, which sent off a couple of warning bells in Alfred's mind. "Um…can…can I ask you a favor? Can you drop me off at the Golden Gate Bridge?"

The kid was flat-out scared about something, Alfred saw that. He had a bad feeling, but the sense was only there for only a split-second. In all honesty, there was no way he could refuse. Alfred was just too nice for his own good. He sighed and then gave him a grin.

"Sure! Just tell me where to park," he said, "I'm Alfred, by the way."

"S-Sam," the other replied as the two walked toward the Priuss Alfred had rented. Alfred never noticed the predatory glint that had entered Sam's eyes, though it only lasted for a second.

***

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN HE'S MISSING?!" Ludwig shouted as the three new agents entered Veneziano's office. Kiku frowned as the other agents glanced at each other. What was going on?

"I mean he's missing! Gone! I've been trying for the past _hour_ to reach his cell phone, but he's not picking up! He's always picked up his cell whenever one of us calls!" the young Italian replied, hiding behind a case file. Arthur was starting to worry that something bad had happened. Actually, now that he thought about it, none of them had seen Alfred since last night.

"Are you telling us that Alfred is missing?!" Arthur asked incredulously. Tears were streaming down Veneziano's eyes and Francis winced. There must have been extreme guilt coming from the young Italian man.

"It's all my fault! I must have mislabeled the assignment again! I just looked at the case and it wasn't meant to be a solo mission! In fact, it was supposed to be a mission for at least three or four agents!" Veneziano chocked on a sob. Ludwig sighed and embraced the young man, whispering comforting words.

"I'll go ahead and trace Alfred's cell phone. It has a GPS chip in it, so I might be able to find it. You three better get on the first plane to San Francisco. Don't worry, I'll call you when I find something out," Kiku told them calmly before navigating the maze of bookshelves back to his office. Silently, Ludwig handed them each copies of the case file Alfred had taken.

"Be prepared for anything and don't let your guard down," the German told them. He saluted the three agents out of habit before going back to comforting the distraught Veneziano.

***

"Damn it, why the hell did he go out on his own, anyway?" Arthur muttered under his breath. Vaguely, he wondered why he was so worried about a man he had only just met three days ago, but he discarded that thought. Alfred was in serious trouble and the blond Briton was going to need a calm mind.

Matthew and Francis were unusually silent. It didn't take an empath to know that the Canadian was worried to death about his brother. Francis was a different story. What was that perverted Frenchman feeling about the situation? Arthur was a little afraid to find out, but he took a peek into Francis' thoughts.

The peek was enough to close the connection almost immediately. Arthur felt his face heat up and he gave Francis a disgusted look. The Frenchman noticed it and gave him an innocent (false) look.

"…Only you would think about things that should be rated NC-17 about _Alfred_ of all people," Arthur told him, his blush going down as he glared suspiciously at Francis. The Frenchman appeared hurt while Matthew gave him (Francis) a scandalous look.

***

As soon as the three had gotten into the parking lot, Arthur's cell phone started to ring "God Save the Queen." He hastily took the call, found that it was from Kiku, and pressed the speaker mode button. Arthur really needed to configure his ring tones for certain people.

"You're on speaker, so go ahead, Kiku," the Briton said as they walked slowly toward the rental car. They heard him clear his throat on the other end.

"_The last place the GPS put him is at the Golden Gate Bridge. From what I can tell on the map, his phone should be on the side leading into San Francisco_," Kiku told them. He was trying to be calm, but it was still easy to pick up the slight concern in the young Japanese man's voice.

"We'll keep you posted," Arthur told him before hanging up. The three stepped into the SUV and drove toward the Bridge.

***

_Why _Golden_ Gate Bridge? For God's sake, it isn't even _gold_!_ The blond Briton absently thought as they parked near the bridge. They got out of the car and started walking along the sidewalk. Eventually, they noticed a red Priuss parked off the side of the road, almost right at the edge of the shore. Arthur frowned as they got closer to the car.

While Francis and Matthew inspected the inside of the car, Arthur was busy looking at the outside of it. He ignored whatever they said as he looked underneath the car. His eyes widened at what he saw.

_Oh shi-_"GET AWAY FROM THE CAR!" the Briton yelled at them, running back behind a parked Sedan. Francis and Matthew followed his example without question. As soon as the two were safely behind the black car, the Priuss promptly exploded. They covered their ears and tried to make themselves as small as possible. When it was relatively safe, the three uncovered their ears and took a peek outside.

The car was totaled. The flames were licking hungrily at anything and everything. Off in the distance, they heard sirens coming toward them. Arthur sighed and leaned against the Sedan.

"Uh…well…at least we saved what we found," Matthew commented, trying to look on the bright side. He held out Alfred's cell phone while Francis showed them a Tarot card. It wasn't just any Tarot card, but it was one that depicted The Fool.


	8. Episode 8: Who's Got the Agent? II

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (8/?)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part)  
**Summary:** Alfred is really worried about what the siren tried to tell them. To get his mind off of things, he goes on a solo mission. Unfortunately, Veneziano had mislabled the mission. What happened to Alfred? Will the three agents be able to get him back? TWO BONUS SHORTS FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE~!

**America:** Please…too…tired…

**Me:** Can't stop. Bored.

**England:** *walks in* You two look like hell.

~*~*~*

_Episode 8: Who's Got the Agent? (Part 2)_

~*~*~*

A crowd was starting to gather. Considering that an exploding car wasn't a usual occurrence, the three agents weren't surprised that people were coming to see the destruction that had been caused. Still, being interrogated by the police not only sucked and was boring, but it was pretty annoying and time consuming. Arthur sighed and massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He casually glanced at the crowd, wondering if the bomber had decided to stick around.

_Damn it. When I find that bloody git, I'll…_ Arthur was spared from completing that thought when he felt something tug on his sleeve. He looked down and saw a small boy, who was looking at the Briton with innocent curiosity in his eyes. Arthur smiled and kneeled down to the boy's level. The blond Briton had a soft spot for children.

The child smiled back.

"Some guy wanted me to give this to you!" he said to the agent, holding out an envelope. Arthur hesitated before taking the letter.

"Well…thank you. You'd best run along now before you worry your family," Arthur commented, patting the young boy's head. The child giggled before running off into the crowd.

Matthew and Francis stood to either side of the blond Briton, watching him open the letter. It was made of parchment and the script was flowing, old-style cursive written in emerald green ink. It was hard for the Canadian and Frenchman to decipher the words, but Arthur understood it just fine (some of his colleagues had similar handwriting).

"It says, 'Bring The Fool to the Bridge at midnight, the time when the full moon bathes the water in silver light,'" Arthur read aloud before snorting, "How direct."

"And obviously a trap," Francis commented with a disapproving frown. Matthew sighed dejectedly.

"Trap or no, do we really have a choice? We have no other leads but this one," the young Canadian pointed out. His fellow agents agreed. What other choice did they have? They had to get Alfred back, no matter what. True, two of the agents barely knew him, but somewhere along the way, the foreign agents had become very attached to the loud American.

***

_He wasn't sure where he was, but it was a place filled with a warm light. His eyes were closed, he was positive of that, yet he saw white all around. Was he dead? He couldn't remember, didn't _want _to remember._

_His heart hurt._

***

"Five minutes till midnight," Francis murmured to his companions. Matthew was fidgeting and Arthur…well, he was trying his damnedest to remain calm. The blond Briton felt as though they were running out of time to save Alfred.

_Hell, who's to say we aren't?_

The minutes crept along at a slow pace. Arthur drummed his fingers against his crossed arms, trying _not_ to have a panic attack. Midnight came, but nothing happened immediately. It took a few seconds before the air seemed to…well, _shimmer_. The three held their breaths as they watched silvery wisps dance across the water. The wisps rose up and seemed to caress the moon lovingly before shifting and twisting away. That routine was repeated a couple more times, the intricate dance ending when the wisps came together.

A silver light blinded the three agents, causing them to look away. Floating above the water was the boy from before. There was something different about him, though. He seemed to change his age from time to time. At first he was a boy, and then at other times he became a young man. The only thing that remained the same was his flowing, white robe, fiery red hair, and bright green eyes.

The man tilted his head, looking at the three with blank eyes. Arthur shivered, sensing the sheer _power_ hidden beneath the young exterior, although the Briton had the feeling that the…man was suppressing his power. He tentatively tried to open a connection with the man, trying to get a feel for what he was, but for some reason, Arthur couldn't use his telepathy. As an experiment, Arthur tried to read the minds of his companions, but he couldn't do that, either.

_What the bloody hell…?_

"_Your powers do not work in the presence of a celestial being_," came a chuckle. The three looked around, but there was nobody there. In fact, the only person there was the levitating young man. Their eyes focused on him and he chuckled again.

"Were you the one who left The Fool in our friend's car, and then rig the bomb to go off after we had the card in hand?" Arthur asked, barely repressing his anger. The so-called "celestial being" tilted his head, a soft smile on his face.

"_Yes. A man as pure as that one is hard to come by, and should be cherished. Mortal beauty…is such a fragile thing. He had physical beauty, but his spiritual beauty was more precious. I only meant to protect him from what is to come_," he tilted his head in the other direction, the smile replaced by a frown, "_Things have changed. He has so many connections with people, powerful people. His determination is…astounding. He makes me believe that you mortals have a small chance of survival_."

"So, you will give our pretty American back, then?" Francis inquired with a small smile. The being paused as he sincerely considered the question.

"_There is a price for everything. Are you willing to pay the price for your friend's freedom?_" There was no need to ask, for all three had simultaneously nodded their heads without a second's worth of thought. He smiled serenely at them. "_So be it. You will know when the price has been paid. All I ask…is for you to stop what is to come._"

In a flash of silver light, he was gone and a person was lying in the middle of the road on the Golden Gate Bridge. The three rushed over to the fallen man and gave sighs of relief. It was Alfred, peacefully asleep.

***

Since both planes were at San Francisco, the three decided to just take both of them back by dividing themselves up. Much to Matthew's horror, he was going to ride with Francis while Arthur rode with Alfred.

The blond Briton dozed off after a while, only to be awakened when he sensed his companion stirring. Arthur watched Alfred slowly open his eyes, blinking away the sleep. The young American looked at his surroundings in confusion before his eyes landed on Arthur.

_Damn he's got beautiful eyes._ Arthur thought absently.

"That's the last time you're going out on a solo mission," the Briton said sternly, glaring at the American. Alfred chuckled weakly and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Still, what in the bloody hell was that?"

"Uh…Oh! Um…Sorry, brain fuzzy, let me think for a minute," Alfred replied, looking _way_ too damn adorable when he got that serious thinking look, "I really only got a feeling of what it was. It felt like…the past and the future represented by one being. I guess you could say that he was a god, but an old one."

They were silent for a while. It was starting to get awkward, but Alfred was just trying to stay awake and probably hadn't noticed. Arthur felt like he could forgive the young American for being unable to read the atmosphere that one time. The blond Briton sighed, catching Alfred's attention.

"I'm glad you're safe," Arthur said. Afterward, he refused to speak until the morning.

***

BONUS SHORT #1

Kiku was busy running a sample of some substance for another branch when Alfred walked into the room. He glanced up from his work and bowed his head politely to his boss. The American grinned.

"Kiku~! I have a new lab assistant for you! He just flew in today, so take it easy on him," Alfred then pushed forward a young Chinese man. His long, raven locks were put up into a low ponytail, and his chocolate brown eyes were sparkling with kindness and warmth. The Chinese man smiled serenely at Kiku, causing the Japanese man to blush a little. "Kiku, meet Wang Yao. Yao, meet Honda Kiku."

The two bowed to each other, Kiku expertly hiding a small smile. Alfred had a thing about introducing new people to Kiku by saying his or her last name first. Now, if only the loud American would use the honorifics while addressing the Japanese man.

_Can't be perfect. Alfred should have taught you that._

"Anyway! Yao, I all ready told you Kiku's ability. So, Kiku, Yao has the ability to summon and commune with spirits," Alfred said with a grin and a barely suppressed shiver. The Japanese man smiled a little, knowing his boss' fear of ghosts. He then left the two alone in Kiku's lab.

***

BONUS SHORT #2

Veneziano had been sleeping peacefully when the phone rang. He sighed sadly and answered it.

"_H-Hi, this is Toris. Um…is…is Alfred there?_" Toris, who was a Lithuanian in the Russian Paranormal Investigative Unit, asked. Veneziano would recognize the young man's voice (and accent) anywhere.

"Yup! Well, he's in his office right now, so…can I take a message?" the young Italian replied as he played with the phone cord. Ludwig glanced over and sighed. Sometimes the German wished they had wireless phones, although Veneziano couldn't figure out why.

"_Y-Yeah, that's fine. W-Would you please tell him that…_"

The rest of the sentence was whispered lowly, but Veneziano miraculously heard the key words needed to understand what was being said. His eyes widened and he rushed out a phrase before hanging up. The young Italian then bolted for Alfred's office and barged into the room.

"'Sup?" Alfred asked after a moment of silence. The Italian had interrupted something between him and the other three agents, but he really wasn't curious right then. There was a bigger issue at the moment.

"Uh…Toris just called and…um…left a message for you," Veneziano stuttered, which was new for the others. The American tilted his head.

"Okay…so…what did Toris say?" he prompted when he saw that his Italian receptionist wasn't going to go on. Veneziano fidgeted.

"…Ivan's visiting."

There was a deafening silence. Alfred still had that pleasant smile on his face as he rose from his chair.

"I think my hearing's going. What did you say? 'Cause I thought you said that Ivan was visiting," more fidgeting came from the young Italian.

"Th-That's what I said. Ivan _is_ coming to visit. Tomorrow," with that said, Veneziano fled the room.


	9. Episode 9: Immortality Sucks I

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (9/30) [tentative cap]  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied)  
**Summary:** Ivan comes to visit and scares the hell out of everybody. Yet, there's a reason he has come. Ivan has a case he's willing to share with Alfred and his team. It might lead them to the answer of what the Ice Siren was trying to tell them.

**Russia:** ^.^

**Me:** …

**Russia:** ^.^ You—

**Me:** I'M SORRY!

**Russia:** ^.^ I was going to say that you have something on your shirt.

**Me:** O-Oh…th-thanks…

~*~*~*

_Episode 9: Immortality Sucks (Part 1)_

~*~*~*

They were all in Alfred's office, waiting for the Russian agent to enter the room. Needless to say, Alfred was very nervous about all of this. He had a good reason! Ivan was…well, very protective and possessive. He also knew exactly which buttons to press on Alfred. There were other…personal reasons the young American was dreading the visit.

The American was so busy freaking out (not outwardly, of course), he hadn't noticed that there was someone else in the room. Well, until the man started speaking.

"Alfred! It is good to see you in good health," a fairly heavy Russian accent easily cut through Alfred's thoughts. He chuckled nervously as he took in the sight before him.

Ivan hadn't changed a bit. His short, silver-ish hair still went dazzlingly well with his amethyst purple eyes. Despite the summer heat, Ivan was wearing long jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, his trademark scarf, and his black boots. The smile on the Russian's face was innocent, although Alfred knew better than to believe the false innocence. Still, the two agents shook hands in a friendly enough manner.

"Nice to see you, too, Ivan. What brings you here?" Alfred asked politely, smiling despite his anxiety.

"For one thing, I wanted to meet your new agents. If only to warn them that if they hurt you in any way, shape, or form, I will make life very painful for them," the slightly taller Russian replied innocently, his eyes glittering. All four of the agents gave nervous chuckles and the three newbies stepped away from the American and Russian. "But, that is not the sole reason. Do you remember that one unsolved case a few years ago? The one about hikers disappearing on that mountain trail Vermont?"

Alfred frowned, crossed his arms, and thought back. It took a while for him to remember what the basics for that case were.

"Uh…wasn't that the case where 13 hikers went missing and that botanist got killed?" the American asked, trying to make sure. Ivan nodded, the innocent smile still upturning his lips. "That was…unsolved, from what I can remember. We weren't able to find anything conclusive."

"Da, it was unsolved. I found something a few weeks ago as I was visiting Vermont. I all ready gave our Italian friend the case file. He's reviewing it right now, so let us get through with the introductions," Ivan stated, waiting politely for Alfred's response. The American cleared his throat, fighting down his blush. He had totally forgotten about the introductions.

"This is Arthur Kirkland, my telepath," he pointed to the blond Briton, "that's Francis Bonnefoy, the empath," this time he pointed to the Frenchman who seemed to be looking for a way out, "and this is my younger twin brother, Matthew, who can see ghosts and generally anything invisible." The young Canadian gave a nervous, yet friendly, wave to Ivan. "Team, this is Ivan Braginsky, who can see and hear a few seconds into the future when he needs or wants to, and he is—"

"Alfred's ex," the Russian finished with a smile. Alfred blushed and refused to meet his team's eyes, which confirmed Ivan's statement. There was silence between them. Francis coughed.

"Just one question. Where did the phrase, "Ivan is going to marry your brother" come from?" Francis asked. Ivan chuckled fondly at the memory while Alfred hung his head in embarrassment. He knew this question was going to come up eventually.

"Now, _that_ is a tale that never gets old," Ivan mused, "Alfred, he was heavy sleeper even back then. Constantly, we were always late for our briefings. One day, I got fed up and said that I would marry his brother if he didn't wake up. This was when we were still dating, mind you, and he had mentioned having a brother at one point."

"The jet's ready to go~!" Veneziano called as he entered the room, completely ruining further discussion.

***

The ride had been really, really, REALLY awkward for them (except for Ivan, of course). For one thing, Alfred could just tell that his agents were trying very hard not to get on Ivan's bad side. The other thing was that…they really didn't know what to say about the young American's ex-boyfriend. At least, that was the feeling Alfred had.

_I _really_ hope they don't ask any questions…_ Alfred thought as they exited the airport somewhere in Vermont. He couldn't remember exactly what city or town they were in. Still, although the temperature felt warm, it was raining. For some odd reason, Alfred was expecting that (must have been because he had looked on the Weather Channel's website).

The agents had to run through the rain to get to the rented car, which happened to be another Priuss. Alfred smiled wryly, remembering the last time he had a Priuss (although, now that he thought about it, whenever he got into a Priuss, it managed to get destroyed somehow). He personally liked driving the small hybrid, but maybe he should consider requesting a different car as the rental.

Ivan was driving this time around and Alfred was trying to fall asleep (if only to avoid talking about matters that shouldn't have been said). The attempt was foiled when he had this nagging feeling that they should stop. Like, _right now_.

"Hey, Ivan. Stop the car. Feeling," the American told the Russian sleepily. Alfred felt the car slow to a complete stop at the side of the road. He grunted and unbuckled himself, then stepped outside the car. The blond ignored the curious looks his companions were giving him. Instead, he crossed the street to the other side of where they had parked.

On this side, the area was dense forestry. Alfred vaguely recalled that the man that had been killed was found in the woods. Apparently, he had been mauled by animals and had written a message in his blood. If memory served, the message had said, "_The secret to immortality can be found…if you dig deep enough._" What the hell did THAT mean?

_Focus, Alfred!_ He shook his head and stepped over the metal railing. Abruptly, Alfred had the urge to kneel down and instinctively did so. He narrowed his eyes and shielded his glasses from the falling rain. There was _something_ on the ground, but he just couldn't see it. Alfred jumped a little when he felt a hand on both of his shoulders. Ivan was on his left while Arthur was on his right. When did they get there, anyway? Did Alfred _seriously_ not hear them approaching?

"You sense something. What is it?" Arthur asked. The rain must have been getting to Alfred, since he shivered. He wasn't shivering because of Ivan and Arthur's eyes boring into the side of his head, nope.

"There's something here, but I can't see it," Alfred replied as he pointed to his glasses. They were silent as the other two men raked the ground with their eyes. The young American really needed to wipe off his glasses, but his clothes were too wet. He'd probably have to use Matty's shirt to clean them.

He felt Arthur's hand tighten slightly on his shoulder. The blond Briton was leaning forward and had grabbed something. Arthur leaned back and was holding up a muddy, antique locket. In the center, a small amethyst glittered with a light of its own.

"I think…that's it," Alfred murmured as he narrowed his eyes. The two men nodded and stood up. The young American was about to stand when something out of his peripheral vision caught his eye. He snatched what he saw and frowned. It was a dirty, silver key.

***

The hotel they arrived at was a quaint, homely place. They were only able to get two rooms. Francis had immediately claimed one room and dragged Matthew off to be his roommate. Alfred felt a twitch coming on. If that Frenchman did something to his brother, bad things would happen. Alfred could probably get Ivan to help him, too.

Speaking of, that meant that he was going to be rooming with not only his ex-boyfriend, but Arthur as well. This was going to be a _long_ night.

Alfred tried to keep a calm front as he led his roommates up to their room. He had to admit that the room was nice, although there was one bed and one couch-bed. If this were an anime, Alfred felt that a sweat drop would have been totally appropriate for his situation.

_Now_ what was he going to do? He couldn't sleep with Ivan, since they were ex-boyfriends and things would get _way_ too awkward. Sleeping with Arthur would be like…what? Weird? Uncomfortable?

_A dream come true?_ A traitorous voice in Alfred's mind snickered. He kicked that part of himself and raked his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous habit of his.

"I'll take the couch," Arthur volunteered, a little tightness in his voice. Alfred chalked that down to imagination. There was no way the blond Briton was jealous or anything like that of what Ivan and Alfred _used_ to have.

"Alfred, why don't you take the bed? I'll be fine on the floor," Ivan told the young American. He wanted to protest, but the Russian was hearing none of it. With a sigh of defeat, Alfred put his suitcase at the foot of the bed, grabbed toiletries and his pajamas, and went into the bathroom for a quick shower.

After the shower, Alfred was busy drying and brushing his hair while Ivan took his shower. The silence between the remaining two agents was, well, awkward. Alfred couldn't help but wonder if it was something he did or didn't do. And then he had to wonder why he was even thinking like that. It wasn't as if Alfred and Arthur were a couple!

_You could be._ The young American forced that train of thought to a stop.

"How long were you and Ivan a couple?" Arthur abruptly asked. Alfred gave him a blank look before his brain kicked into gear.

"Oh! Uh…about…um…four years? I know that when he was transferred over to the Russian branch that we stopped seeing each other. Falling out 'cause of distance," the blond American explained with a light blush. He hadn't told anybody about his relationships, except for his mentor. Speaking of, Alfred needed to have a talk with him.

They were silent until Ivan got out of the shower. Arthur then took his turn and the silence just got more awkward for Alfred. Sometimes, the young American wished that he hadn't into a relationship and other times he wished that he hadn't broken up with Ivan like that. This was a time for the former.

"Your brother is very much like you. At least in regards to appearance," Ivan mused, bringing Alfred away from his thoughts, "He is also like you in that he is very cute."

Alfred sputtered.

"_Ivan_! Don't talk about my brother like that!" the American responded, causing the Russian to chuckle in amusement. He had forgotten that Ivan found his over-protective nature toward his brother amusing.

When Arthur was finished with his shower, the three decided that it would be best to get to bed early. They had a long day ahead of them, after all.

***

BONUS SHORT

That night, Ivan was the only one awake. The other two were sound asleep about an hour after the lights had gone out. Ivan sighed. He knew what was wrong. Although neither would admit it, but the Russian could tell that they had missed each other. The abrupt separation had been unexpected and left many threads hanging.

Still…

He couldn't resist. Ivan knew how much of a heavy sleeper Alfred was and hoped that Arthur was the same way. He stood up from his "bed" and walked over to the couch, where the blond Briton was sleeping. Ivan had an innocent smile on his face as he carefully hefted Arthur into his arms. He then gingerly set the Briton on the bed next to Alfred and covered both of them up. Ivan grinned and slipped into bed on the other side of his ex.

_And now, we are comfortable._ Ivan thought with amusement. He briefly wondered how the two would react in the morning, but he drifted off into sleep too soon to contemplate the thought.


	10. Episode 10: Immortality Sucks II

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (10/30)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied), past mentions of RussiAmerica  
**Summary:** Ivan comes to visit and scares the hell out of everybody. Yet, there's a reason he has come. Ivan has a case he's willing to share with Alfred and his team. It might lead them to the answer of what the Ice Siren was trying to tell them.

**Russia:** ^.^

**Me:** …(Thinks: Oh, shit, not again…)

**Russia:** ^.^ So—

**Me:** DAMN IT I'M SORRY YOU GOT THROWN OFF OF THE COUCH! T~T

**Russia:** ^.^ I'm having a feeling of déjà vu. Anyway, so…the chapters. It is definite, then?

**Me:** Oh…uh…yes. Yes, we're definitely having 30 chapters for this story. Ahahaha…ha…ha.

~*~*~*

_Episode 10: Immortality Sucks (Part 2)_

~*~*~*

Alfred was the first to wake up that morning. He felt very warm, comfortable, and was disinclined to move. The blond sleepily opened his eyes and saw that not only was Arthur in the bed, but so was Ivan. In fact, Alfred was sandwiched in between them. And both of their arms were holding him. Ivan had claimed the shoulders while Arthur was hugging Alfred's waist.

A few thoughts entered the American's sleepy mind. The first was how was the bed able to hold three people? His second thought was how did they get _into the bed with him?_ And the last was that he was just too tired to deal with that right then. So, Alfred immediately fell back asleep, heedless of the consequences.

The consequence was that Arthur was the first to wake up after Alfred. Seriously, the only thing the young American remembered of that morning was a shriek from the blond Briton and then finding himself on the floor with Ivan. Alfred heard a few indignant phrases hurled at the two (mainly at the American), but he was too sleepy to figure out what was just said. Then he heard Arthur storm into the bathroom for a morning shower. Alfred turned to Ivan, who was sitting right next to him.

"Did you put him in the bed with me and then climb in, too?" Alfred asked the amused Russian. Ivan's innocent smile was all the answer he needed.

"He looked uncomfortable," the American was about to ask where the real Ivan was when the Russian added to the sentence, "And I wanted to see how he would react. I did not expect a, how you say, 'schoolgirl' reaction."

Alfred just stared at the Russian for a moment before laughing. The thought of Arthur as a schoolgirl was just hilarious (and downright sexy).

***

The morning was spent in silence as they ate their breakfast. Alfred was questioning Matthew ruthlessly on what had gone on last night. The Canadian assured him that nothing had happened. Alfred knew that Matty was a horrible liar and he seemed sincere, so he would drop the matter…for now. Instead, he focused on Ivan.

"You know where we're going, right?" Alfred asked before sipping his second cup of coffee. Yes, it took at least two cups of coffee in order for the young American to wake up in the morning. Pulling all-nighters for many years did that to a person.

"Da. We are going to investigate the scene, firstly, before making our way to what is supposedly the victim's home," Ivan replied. He said no more. The Russian knew that the rest had been in the case file, which he had handed out during the flight.

When breakfast was done, they got back into the car. Once again, Ivan was driving and poor Francis was up front next to him. Alfred found himself sitting between Arthur and Matthew, which was only a little awkward (if Francis was back there with them, it would be even more awkward).

Alfred had to admit that the mountain trail was nice. There was plenty of forestry and the trail wasn't too rugged. He would have to keep this place in mind (he loved a good hike).

Ivan parked at the entrance to the trail and the young American impatiently waited for his brother to get out. The trail was going to be wet and dangerous, but that didn't matter to Alfred. He just loved to hear the birdsong and smell the natural scents of the outdoors.

The group of four carefully made their way through the trail. About halfway through, Ivan led them off of the path and went down a fairly steep slope. At the bottom was the crime scene, which was marked for their convenience. Alfred frowned and tilted his head. The bloodied message was still on the tree.

"The coroner said that he was killed by wolves, which makes no sense," Ivan told them softly. Alfred glanced up at the Russian. He had forgotten that Ivan used to work closely with wolf conservation before being recruited. "The only thing that makes sense is if someone had caused the wolves to attack and kill this man."

"Or he was all ready dead when the wolves came around," Francis commented thoughtfully. The Russian glanced sharply at the Frenchman, who merely shrugged. "Just a thought. There are many poisons that do not leave a trace."

"What do you think, Matty?" Alfred asked his brother. The Canadian tilted his head, looking at something unseen by the rest. He had that "listening" look, the look that he always got whenever a ghost was speaking to him. Alfred could never forget that look, not since that day they had gone through the construction site.

"I think…that Ivan is right. The man was running and all ready wounded when he tripped here. Out of desperation, he must have written that message before the wolves got to him," Matthew told the group. Ivan looked impressed.

"Tell me. Do you have a description of these wolves?" the Russian pressed. He was the expert when it came to wolves and wolf-like creatures, really. Matthew was silent for a moment, listening to the description.

"They were regular wolves, but their eyes were different. Their eyes were…human eyes," he replied, furrowing his brow. The agents looked to Ivan for what that meant. He had a grim look.

"**тень волки, Shadow Wolves. They are creatures that have taken the form of a wolf, but were once human. They hunt mortals. Once killed by a Shadow Wolf, the spirit is forever chased by the pack, unless the spirit is black enough to join the pack in a never-ending hunt for the souls of the dead," Ivan explained, sending shivers down the backs of the other agents, "It is not a death one would wish for anyone. Still, it has been known that magicians powerful in the Forbidden Arts can summon a pack against their foes."**

**They shuddered at the thought. Alfred looked down to where the body had been found. What a way to go.**

*******

The house wasn't far from the crime scene. Actually, it wasn't a house; it was more like a rundown shack. The windows were grimy with years of dirt and there were cracks in the panes. Moss grew on the side of the shack and the door was torn open, literally.

Carefully, the five agents stepped inside. Inside, it was obvious that someone was looking for something the man had. Many things had been destroyed, including clothes, pictures, even cabinets. Whatever the person was looking for, Alfred had a feeling that he didn't find it.

Without a word, the agents split up to search the shack. Alfred picked his way toward the victim's room and shook his head at the damage caused. Of all the rooms, this one had suffered the worst. The bed and sheets were torn to shreds, and so were the books. A lamp had been broken and glass shards littered the floor. Shredded clothes were strewn everywhere.

The young American made his way carefully toward the side of the bed and saw that only one thing had been left untouched. It was a dingy, old nightstand. The drawer had a keyhole in it. Alfred frowned and tried opening it, only to find that it was locked.

Another feeling overtook him, one that was urging him to take the silver key out of his pocket. Alfred dug into it and pulled out the key. He paused, uncertain, but decided to believe his feeling, as he always did. The key struck home, a perfect match, and Alfred turned it. He heard the rusty _click_ of the lock unlocking and he opened the drawer. Inside was a black, leather-bound journal with faded, gold leaf lettering that said _The Immortal Journal_.

"Hey, guys! I think I found something!" Alfred called out as he exited the room. The other four rejoined him in the main room, casting curious looks toward the black journal. Luckily, there was enough sunlight to read what was inside. The only downside was that it was so old; some of the words had faded beyond recognition.

_Day – Year –_

_I found it! I – it! The key to immor—! It was the – all along! But…now I must protect the – at all costs. Who knows what would – if it got into the wrong hands, after –?_

_Day – Year –_

_I'm starting to – if it's been worth it. I've – to…to kill people in order to keep the secret safe. I've also had to – everyone I knew die, while I remained young and –._

_Day – Year –_

_This damned – must be –! Many strangely – people have been coming, asking strange questions. I should have left the –ned thing in the lake when I had the –!_

_Day – Year –_

_I know that I – not have long to –, for those men have – to become more dema—. So, I hid the – keys to fi— where I – the immortal –. I just hope that some— gets there – the –, for that is what – call themselves, do._

"This man, he was going insane from all the years of living," Ivan commented with a frown.

"What keys? And how many are there?" Matthew asked, giving voice to the questions going through their minds. Francis shook his head.

"And what people?" the Frenchman added, crossing his arms and frowning. For those questions, the others had no answers. There was nothing left for them in the shack, so they left the man's home. At least, they tried to.

Standing in the doorway was a man dressed in robes of black silk. Red colored threads were woven in intricate designs all over and seemed to constantly change shape. A black hood was up, cloaking his face in shadow. The five agents tensed up and Alfred had a horrible feeling about the strange man.

"We shall take back what is rightfully ours. Do not stand in our way, unless you wish to end up like the poor fool you had found mere days ago," the deep voice grated against Alfred's senses. The strange man started to ripple, as though there were heat waves all around him. Surprisingly enough, he melted into the shadows, leaving no trace of his ever being there.

"Okay, that's it. Next time, we're taking some weapons from the vault," Alfred stated, breaking the silence. Ivan immediately agreed. Things were starting to become too dangerous, and they doubted that mortal weapons were going to help them (guns versus a dragon had taught them the important lesson of carrying around an enchanted weapon, just in case).

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, so, I might be doing a few oneshots set in this universe, but that will start when Alfie and Artie confess. They'll be fillers and have no bearing on the plot (although they might get mentioned), so they will be separate fics. :D


	11. Episode 11: Immortality Sucks III

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (11/30)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied), mentions of past RussiAmerica  
**Summary:** Ivan comes to visit and scares the hell out of everybody. Yet, there's a reason he has come. Ivan has a case he's willing to share with Alfred and his team. It might lead them to the answer of what the Ice Siren was trying to tell them.

**England:** Well, I'm back from vacation. :/

**Me:** *currently listening to Marukaite Chikyuu America/England version* …Hey, England?

**England:** *suspicious* Yes?

**Me:** *innocent* What would happen if we combined the America, England, and Russia versions of Marukaite Chikyuu? :)

**England:** …I should have stayed at home today. :/

~*~*~*

_Episode 11: Immortality Sucks (Part 3)_

~*~*~*

"Yeah, Kiku, do you mind setting up the…uh…whatever the hell it is called that allows instant trading of items?" Alfred asked as the agents rested in the car. The hike had taken a toll on them, since they had gotten lost a couple of times. Kiku sighed on the other line.

"_Of course, Alfred-san. I'll get the Transit ready. What do you need, though?_"

"Well, I need my awesome dagger. I think you know which one," the young American grinned only a tad evilly. Being the Russian's boyfriend had heightened his inner evil self…but only slightly. "Ivan is gonna need his freaky, collapsible pole-ax. We haven't taken the others to the vault yet. I…uh…forgottodothat."

Said three agents glared at him. Alfred truly hadn't noticed that they had been glaring at him ever since they had gotten back to the car.

The blond American (so…many…blonds) rummaged through his pockets and took out a small cube made of silver. Needless to say, the three newbies were a little put-off by the size of the Transit. However, Alfred would bet his life savings that they weren't expecting him to grab his water bottle, set the cube on the ground, and pour a little water on it.

That was when the cube grew up to Alfred's shoulders. He grinned at the surprised looks he was getting from all but Ivan.

"This is the Transit, which was crafted by our Elvin allies," the young American started to explain, before being cut off by Ivan.

"Da. The Transits are used in all of the branches around the world. Each one has a different wavelength, which is in tune with the country they are in," Alfred finally realized what Ivan was doing. They were going to play what they called the "Twin Telepathy Game." When it came to Ivan and Alfred, it was really scary to hear them finish each other's sentences.

"For example, this Transit only accepts American Transits. Ivan's Transit will only accept Russian Transits."

"There are only three in each country. One receives…"

"Another sends…"

"And the last one does both and is used in the field. The other two are at the base," the Russian and American said at the same time. Both were smiling innocently at the looks they were getting from their companions. Kiku sighed on the other line. He was most certainly familiar with the game. Speaking of, Alfred cringed as he realized that he just lost the game.

"_They do this a lot. Please, don't mind them_," Kiku told the group (the phone was on speaker), "_Alfred-san, we're ready on this end. Set yours to send._"

Alfred went to the left side of the cube and pressed his left hand against it. The silver rippled and a thin, sky blue aura seemed to surround the young American. He closed his eyes, concentrating on sending.

"Okay, Ivan. Can you put the journal in there?" he asked, a little tightly. Alfred hated doing this. The cube only worked by willingly giving up a little of his spirit. Of course, the spirit would eventually regenerate what was lost, and that took about three or so weeks. Not only that, but all cubes were made so that only the leading agent in the country was the only one able to use it. Meaning, in America, Alfred was the only one who could use the cube he always carried around. The same went for Ivan in Russia, since he was the leading agent in the Russian branch.

Ivan nodded and gently placed the leather-bound book on top of the cube. That time, the entire thing rippled like water. The journal sank into the cube and after a few moments, the silver stilled. Alfred removed his hand and his aura faded away. He sat down heavily, but waved away his friends' concern.

"_Success. Just one more, Alfred-san, so please set it to receiving_," Kiku asked gently. He knew it took a bit out of the young American to do either receiving or sending, but both? Alfred was going to have to take things easy after the mission.

"No problem!" the blond American replied with a grin. He stood up, but slowly so that his head wouldn't spin.

_Just one more…come on, you're strong! You can do it, damn it!_ He thought to himself as he walked around to the right side. This time, Alfred placed his right hand on the cube. He closed his eyes at the same time his aura appeared. There were no ripples this time.

"Go ahead, Kiku," Alfred shouted, making sure the Japanese man heard him. Sweat was starting to bead on his face, but he ignored it. He felt his heart starting to hurt, but that was normal. When the lead agent received something, some sort of spiritual pain was going to happen. That was because they had to use their spirit to "pull" the object or objects through the cube. It required intense concentration on Alfred's part, but he was okay with that. After doing it for a few years, you kind of get used to the pain.

The cube started to ripple. From the top of it the tip of a blade was starting to push its way up through the silver. When the pole came out, Ivan grabbed it and gently started to pull it out. Alfred bit his lip. The faster an object went out, the more pain dealt.

When the pole-ax was out completely, Ivan clasped the blond American's shoulder. Alfred nodded and kept his hand on the cube. Just one more and he could stop.

Alfred's dagger got out a hell of a lot faster than Ivan's damn pole-ax, which was good for the young American. He had never done something like this and hoped that he wouldn't have to do it again. Alfred felt someone's hand squeeze his shoulder and he dropped his hand. Exhausted, he leaned against the person on his right and cracked open his eyes. It was Arthur, and he was holding the rosewood sheath that held Alfred's dagger. The blond American took the sheath and tied it clumsily to his belt.

"Thanks," he said to the blond Briton as they walked back to the car. Alfred sat down gratefully and held his head in his hands.

"We're good, Kiku," Matthew told the man on the other line, "Thank you."

The Japanese man said something in his mother language before closing the line.

***

They were driving on the back roads to get to their next destination, which was a lake located a few miles away from the victim's home. Alfred was starting to doze off. The transfers had really taken a toll on the blond American.

"So…what exactly do your weapons do?" Francis asked from up front, breaking the silence. He was looking at the three in the back through the rearview mirror. Alfred rubbed his eyes tiredly before responding.

"Well, Ivan's weapon is called **мороз ткач, Frost Weaver. A Russian warlock created this weapon in the middle of one of the harshest blizzards they had ever had. So, the blade was enchanted with, what we like to call, icefire. Think dry ice and you've basically got Ivan's weapon.**

**"Mine's the opposite. The blade was forged on one of the highly active volcanoes in Hawaii. Its enchantment was to add fire when cutting someone or something. Also, the person it had chosen can only use the weapons. Meaning, Ivan is the only one who can use Frost Weaver, and I'm the only one who can wield Firestorm, my dagger," Alfred explained, slurring a little bit, "Ah, screw the explanation. You'll see what I'm talking about when we actually use them."**

**They noted that he had said "when" and not "if." Alfred closed his eyes again and finally fell asleep, not noticing that he was leaning against Arthur.**

*******

Alfred felt someone nudging him in the ribs and opened his eyes. He still felt tired, but he wasn't about to let the others know. Arthur was glaring at him and it was then that Alfred noticed that his head was using the Briton's shoulder as a pillow.

_Arthur's shoulder is really comfortable…I must be really tired if I think his shoulder feels _comfortable_._ The young American thought as he sat up straighter. He took off his glasses and placed them in his lap as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Alfred yawned and put his glasses back on, getting out of the car on Matthew's side.

Surprisingly enough, the lake was clean and clear. The forest formed a ring around the water and the sunlight played across the surface. What was odd was that there was no sound. No birds sang, no insects chirping (or whatever the hell sort of sound insects made), nothing. That was unnatural and it put them all on guard. Alfred fingered the red hilt of his dagger while Ivan was clutching the silver charm version of his pole-ax (yes, his weapon turned into a bracelet with a single charm hanging from it).

The five got closer to the lake on foot. There was something strange about it, but Alfred couldn't put his finger on what. The closer they got to the water, the stronger the off feeling got. Alfred frowned when the five stopped at the shore, a few feet away from the water. Apparently, he wasn't the only one disinclined to touch the water.

Yet…

Something was nudging his mind, telling him to take out the locket he had found. Alfred automatically reached into his pocket and gripped the silver necklace inside. He hesitated before pulling it out. The young American looked down at the locket and saw that the amethyst was glowing brightly.

And that was the last thing Alfred knew.

* * *

**A/N:** Haha, this case is turning out longer than I had originally intended. ._.; Oh, well.


	12. Episode 12: Immortality Sucks IV

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (12/30)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied), mentions of past RussiAmerica  
**Summary:** Ivan comes to visit and scares the hell out of everybody. Yet, there's a reason he has come. Ivan has a case he's willing to share with Alfred and his team. It might lead them to the answer of what the Ice Siren was trying to tell them.

**Me:** Writer's Block is for squares.

**England:** You just figured that out? [/sarcasm]

**Me:** …You know what? :/

**England:** *sigh* What?

**Me:** …Ivan and Alfred are making out right now.

**England:** …F**k you.

~*~*~*

_Episode 12: Immortality Sucks (Part 4)_

~*~*~*

_What the hell is that idiot doing?!_ Arthur thought as he watched Alfred take some sort of necklace out of his pocket. Once the American had looked at the locket (it took the Briton a second to recognize it), he started to walk toward the water. It looked as though he was in some sort of trance.

He was about to restrain Alfred, but Ivan stopped him. Arthur glanced up at the Russian and saw him shake his head. What the hell did that mean? Watch the idiot get killed?

"Alfred is going to lead us to what we need to find. It is what the locket does when it is near this lake, I believe," Ivan explained softly, not wanting to break the American's trance. Arthur met the Russian's amethyst eyes and opened a telepathic link between them. He saw…images of Alfred walking _on the water_ and pulling…something out. The blond Briton couldn't get a clear idea of what it was, but it seemed like it was the thing they were looking for.

"…All right," Arthur replied, looking back toward the blond American.

They watched in stunned surprise (at least, that went for everybody except Ivan, since he could see a few seconds into the future) as Alfred walked across the water. It was almost as though the water wasn't really water, but something sturdier. Crystal, maybe? Arthur wasn't sure what was going on.

The blond man stopped in the center of the lake. He knelt to the ground and reached _through_ the surface of the water. A few seconds past before Alfred took his hand out. They couldn't see what he was holding until he turned around and started walking back toward the shore.

In Alfred's hand was a silver chalice. Aquamarines were encrusted where the bottom of the cup met the body. There were even sapphires encrusted where the top of the cup met the body. As far as the rest went, turquoise veins swirled in an intricate dance that created various pictures. At first, it would look as though it created a laughing mermaid, but then it would change into something completely different. The bizarre thing was that it kept changing. It was almost as if it was as ever changing as the water around them.

The young American was only halfway across to the shore when they heard a screech. Ivan immediately gripped his charm and whispered a few words in Russian. In a flash of blue-white light, Frost Weaver was in his hands and an insane glint had entered his eyes. Arthur shivered.

"That was the call of a бедствие крыло, Plague Wing," Ivan explained, "They are used by magicians using Forbidden Arts to retrieve something, or to spread some sort of disease."

Apparently, this one was sent to retrieve. The Plague Wing, which looked like a huge crow with six, ruby red eyes, had swooped down from the skies and grabbed the chalice from Alfred's hands. Not only that, but Arthur noticed that it had also taken the locket.

As soon as the locket had left Alfred's hands, he fainted.

When he fainted, the young American also went under the water.

(**A/N:** …I'm so tempted to stop right here…)

_Bloody hell, this American is a lot of trouble!_ Arthur absently thought as he ripped off his suit coat, running toward the water. He waded through the icy water as fast as he could. When it was deep enough, the blond Briton sucked in his breath and went under.

Even underwater the lake was clear. Arthur had no trouble finding Alfred, who was somehow sinking in the water. That wasn't right. This water was not behaving like normal water. His body should be floating to the surface, but he wasn't.

_Answers…later._ The blond Briton thought as he grabbed the American by the waist. He was running out of oxygen and who knew how long Alfred could still be under the water. Arthur gritted his teeth and fought his way back to the surface. When he broke the surface, he gasped in the sweet air and almost choked on the water that came up with him. Arthur coughed as he forced Alfred's head above the water. He then swam awkwardly back toward the shore, ignoring the obviously pissed Russian trying to fight off two other Plague Wings.

_I'm just glad he isn't pissed off at _me. Arthur thought absently as Francis and Matthew helped the two back to shore. He ignored his exhaustion (that water had been trying to pull Alfred back down) and put his ear against the American's chest. No heart beat.

Arthur cursed and tilted Alfred's chin up. He put his lips to the young American's (and ignored how much it had tingled pleasantly) and breathed. Twice he did that and then he started to do chest compressions.

_Breathe, damn it!_ The Briton thought desperately. He heard Alfred cough wetly and helped him sit up. The young man coughed and vomited the water out of his lungs, while Arthur was pounding on his back to help get it all out. Never had the blond Briton felt so relieved and he tried hard not to show it.

That was when Ivan rejoined them, blood covering his clothes and face. Arthur seriously doubted that any of it was the Russian's.

"They took the cup," the Russian told them in slight frustration. The insane glint had yet to leave his eyes. "Trust me. When I find them, they will wish for death."

Arthur had no doubt about that.

***

BONUS SHORT #1 (taking you back to the short I had promised with Francis and Matthew sharing a room) (I'm sorry that I forgot about it until now)

Francis grinned evilly. Finally, he was going to be able to fondle the cute Canadian without the annoying, over-protective brother around! Not only that, but since their room was on the other side of the building from Alfred's room, they wouldn't be interrupted by the American. He also wanted to experiment a little more with his empathy. After all, what would the harm be if he used it to heighten Matty's lust for him?

Too bad he wouldn't be able to experiment that night. Matthew fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows on the bed. Francis was very disappointed. Poor Francis.

***

BONUS SHORT #2

Arthur had a bone to pick with her. Who cared if he was drunk off his rocker? He still had a freaking bone to pick at that damned woman.

The blond Briton stormed into the building, blatantly ignoring the secretary telling him not to go in. Arthur furiously jabbed at the elevator button, got inside, and violently punched (literally) the button with the number 13 on it (ironically enough, that was the highest floor other than the roof in the building). He waited patiently for the elevator to stop on his floor. When it got there, the Briton stormed out and made his way into the big office in front of him. Arthur ignored the secretary that looked scarily like the one on the bottom floor.

Inside the room was a big desk with a wide-screen monitor and a Vista computer right next to it. It also had a lamp, a cup filled with pens and pencils, and other office essentials. Although, Arthur doubted that the bookshelves filled with mangas and anime DVD's was needed for the office. Whatever, that wasn't his problem.

"I'm sorry! I know you were looking forward to that short with Francis and Matthew being roommates in the hotel, and I'm writing it _right now_!" the shadowed figure of a 17-year-old girl said on the phone. She paused and sighed. "Yeah, I'll get back to work. And, no, you can't sue me for making you lose the game! …Again! Bye!"

She hung up the phone, turned and backed up against the window. The teenager gave a nervous giggle, noticing that the Englishman was not only in the room, but seemed drunk (if the flush of his cheeks was anything to go by).

"Hi…England. What brings you to my—" poor author never expected to be interrupted by Arthur, let alone for him to bang his fist against her desk. She inched slowly toward the bookcases, trying to stay pleasant.

"Don't you "hi England" me, missy!" Arthur snarled, "Damn it, woman! Why the hell are you torturing me like this?!"

"Uh…it's…more realistic?" she replied tentatively as she got in front of the first bookshelf, which happened to contain her Loveless manga. Arthur smiled, but the girl wasn't fooled by his false innocence.

"Realistic. Right. _Fuck that! I'm about to rip Ivan to shreds! Get. Me. And. Alfred. Together!_" the blond Briton raged. She sweat dropped. Who knew that the story was affecting him so much? Obviously she didn't.

"Um…well…you guys might get together at episode…uh…15? If not then, sometime after that," came the reply. Arthur was about to say something else, but he kinda had no idea what happened after the author had thrown her history book at his head.

She sighed and pulled out her cell phone, dialing the usual number whenever Arthur wandered into her office drunk.

"Hi, Alfred. Get over here and get your boyfriend out of my office. He's a little…sexually frustrated right now."

Such is the life of an author.


	13. Episode 13: Meet the Father I

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (13/30)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied), mentions of past RussiAmerica  
**Summary:** Alfred has been sleeping for a week and Ivan has returned to Russia. When the young American's father forces Alfred and his agents to visit, the agents learn a little more about the American's past. None of them are expecting it, except for Matthew.

~*~*~*

_Episode 13: Meet the Father (Part 1)_

~*~*~*

Alfred had been asleep for a week. Yao, the new lab assistant, had told them that it was normal, considering what the blond American had been through. Still, that hadn't stopped the three agents from worrying, even as they worked on some cases while Alfred was out of commission.

When the American finally woke up, the team was immensely relieved. The relief was short-lived when Veneziano received a phone call about an hour after Alfred's awakening.

"Um, Alfred?" the Italian said tentatively, only poking his head through the door of Alfred's office. All four of the agents were in the office, which was good. It would save time to explain things to them. Veneziano winced when Alfred motioned for him to continue. "Let me just say that we tried very hard to prevent this! Not even Ludwig and Romano could say anything to stop him! We're very sorry, Alfred!"

"Ven," Alfred replied slowly, cutting through the distraught rant, "What's wrong?"

Veneziano hesitated for a long moment. He was on the verge of tears, they could all see that.

"…I'm sorry," the brunet started and hesitated before moving on, "Your father is forcing your mother to visit him, and he wants you and Matthew to visit, too."

The Jones twins just stared at him for a long moment. Alfred stood up, his eyes and body language unreadable.

"Pack your bags, agents, we're heading to Las Vegas," Alfred told them, no hint of emotion in his voice. That shocked the others in the room, but he ignored them and left the office without another word.

***

The young American had been unusually silent on the flight to Las Vegas, Nevada. It wasn't a long flight, granted, but it seemed longer than normal. Arthur had noticed that Matthew never left his older brother's side. Every now and then, the young Canadian would talk to Alfred in a soft whisper, but the American said nothing.

More than ever, Arthur desperately wished that he was able to read Alfred's mind. For some odd reason, he wanted to know what was bothering the normally cheerful American, and possibly comfort him.

The blond Briton wasn't sure he wanted to meet the father. Not if it got such a reaction out of Alfred.

Arthur hoped that they wouldn't stay long in Vegas.

***

For some reason, the blond Briton was expecting a rundown apartment as Alfred's father's house. Screw that. It was a freaking _mansion_ with its own casino next door.

Alfred and Matthew tensed.

"I see the house hasn't changed one bit," the young Canadian commented tonelessly. Francis and Arthur glanced at each other. This wasn't boding well. Just what was it about their father that would make them react like that?

The four walked across the walkway toward the huge, maple-wood doors. When they got there, Alfred rang to doorbell. A young maid (who looked oddly familiar to Arthur) answered the door and the twins gave her friendly smiles (or grin, in Alfred's case).

"You must be Alfred and Matthew. Please, come in! Same with your…friends!" she was obviously thinking that Arthur and Francis weren't their friends. The Frenchman didn't seem to mind that, but the blond Briton wasn't sure what to think about that.

Still, the four agents were led to the living room. Everything in the room was an outright flaunting of wealth. Arthur glanced to his left, seeing a picture that had caught his eye. He got closer to it and saw that it was a family photo, probably from when the twins were only seven or eight years old. What was interesting was that the mother had both kids in front of her, away from the father.

"Alfred! Matthew! So good to see you again!" a baritone voice boomed. The four men turned and saw a man about Alfred's height. He was of Native American descent, although his skin was a tad lighter than the norm. His straight, raven-black hair was tied in a low ponytail and his cold, brown eyes did not match his smile. Somehow, Arthur and Francis were having a hard time believing that he was related to the twins.

There was a woman beside him and she looked more like the twins than the father. Her long, beautiful blonde hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. The bangs framed her heart-shaped face perfectly and her eyes were a kind, intense sky-blue. Arthur could see where most of the genes came from. She was most certainly beautiful, as were her children (although Arthur would choke on his words and die than admit such a thing out loud). The mother smiled at them and the blond Briton could see that she had the same breathtaking smile as Alfred.

"Hello. You must be Arthur and Francis. Matthew told me about you two. I'm Adele," she told them, still smiling. Arthur immediately liked her and the two agents greeted her warmly.

"And I am Akando," the father added, nodding to Francis and Arthur. They greeted him politely. There was just something about that man that struck Arthur as…wrong. The blond Briton was just going to have to keep an eye on Akando. Francis appeared to have the same idea (Arthur took a peek into the Frenchman's thoughts).

Akando and Adele led the four into the kitchen, since they had arrived at the same time dinner was ready (talk about lucky). Dinner was pleasant, although the conversation was tense. Despite the polite smiles the family gave each other, there was tension between the father and the other three.

After dinner, the four were led to their rooms. Much to Alfred's chagrin, Francis and Matthew were roomed together on one end of the guest wing while Arthur and Alfred were roomed at the _other_ end. The four bid the parents good-night and retired to their bedrooms.

***

Once again, there was only one bed in the room. Arthur and Alfred stared at it as though it was going to bite them. They glanced at each other and the blond Briton sighed. It looked like there was no choice but for the two of them to share the…bed.

The two were silent as they prepared for bed. Arthur wanted to break the silence, mainly because it was getting awkward. That was when he noticed that Alfred was hesitating to take off his shirt. Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Alfred," said man glanced up at him, "Something the matter?"

He hesitated, which immediately set off warning bells in Arthur's mind. Something was wrong. Alfred almost _never_ hesitated to say something. There was also a pained look in his normally cheerful eyes, and Arthur didn't like that. For some reason, he hated to see such pain in Alfred's eyes and expression. An odd desire to comfort him almost overtook Arthur.

"Alfred. Tell me what's wrong," Arthur told him softly. Alfred hesitated again. The blond Briton felt his heart pang with hurt. Did he not trust Arthur? "Do you not trust me?"

That seemed to have struck home.

"Of course I trust you, Arthur!" the blond American replied instantly. Alfred sighed sadly and started to unbutton his shirt.

***

BONUS SHORT (This is when Ivan is leaving to board his plane to Russia after the case in Vermont)

"Thanks for coming. We never would have finally solved that case without you," Alfred told the Russian pleasantly. Ivan smiled as innocently as ever. It was good to see the young American, really. He had missed the blond's sunny personality.

"You know my number. If you need me, call and I will come," Ivan replied, causing the slightly shorter man to blush a little. Yes, the feelings were still there, but Alfred was also developing something special between the blond Briton and him. Ivan saw that. He admitted that he was a little jealous, but he also felt that Arthur would be a good choice for Alfred. If not, well, Ivan was going to have to do something drastic.

Still…the Briton was in denial. Why not have some fun while he was still there? Ivan smiled pleasantly, leaned down and kissed Alfred. It was chaste, but it left the young American dazed. That was a good thing, especially with what he was about to do next.

"It was nice to finally meet you, Matthew," Ivan said before kissing the Canadian just as chastely. He then straightened himself and smiled innocently. "прощальный!"

The Russian then ran to catch his plane, leaving behind a dazed Alfred and Matthew, a fuming Arthur, and a Francis who refused to let go of the young Canadian. Ivan smirked. All according to the "matchmaking" plan.

* * *

**A/N:** Time for name translations/origins!

Adele: Female German name, means "noble, kind."

Akando: Male Native American name, means "ambush."

Oh, and Ivan said farewell in Russian.


	14. Episode 14: Meet the Father II

**Title:** Project Pandora's Box (14/30)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts  
**Pairings:** US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied), mentions of past RussiAmerica  
**Summary:** Alfred has been sleeping for a week and Ivan has returned to Russia. When the young American's father forces Alfred and his agents to visit, the agents learn a little more about the American's past. None of them are expecting it, except for Matthew.

**A/N:** Damn, I feel so bad for Native Americans. ._. Also, because it got so freaking angsty, I've decided that you guys get a nice surprise. Just for being so patient with me and 'cause I love you all! :)

~*~*~*

_Episode 14: Meet the Father (Part 2)_

~*~*~*

Alfred: Previously in the last five seconds of Project Pandora's Box…

"Of course I trust you, Arthur!" the blond American replied instantly. Alfred sighed sadly and started to unbutton his shirt.

Alfred threw his shirt to the side and turned around, his back facing Arthur. The blond Briton sucked in his breath sharply. He padded over to the young American and gently hovered his fingers over Alfred's back. It was littered with old, old scars. One of them was thing and long, reaching from his left shoulder down to his right hip.

"What happened to you?" Arthur whispered, entranced as he lightly traced the longer scar. The blond American shuddered a little, either from the touch or from the memories, Arthur couldn't tell. Alfred moved away and put on his nightshirt.

"Dad was the reason mom divorced him, and why she took Matty to Canada. She couldn't take me, since the court wouldn't let her. I had been protecting him from dad anyway, so I was okay with her taking Matty far away," the young man replied, his voice low, "I'd…rather not talk about the rest, since I think you can draw your own conclusions on what happened after."

Arthur couldn't have helped what he had done next. The blond Briton made his way over to his roommate and embraced him. He felt Alfred tense up, but it was out of surprise (how he knew, Arthur couldn't tell you). Something wet and cold dropped onto the Briton's hand. His emerald eyes softened.

"It's in the past and you're here now. You haven't made the same mistakes as your father," the Briton murmured, hopefully in comfort, "You're stronger than that."

It was then that Arthur realized what his mind had been denying for so long.

He was in love with Alfred.

***

In all honesty, Alfred had not wanted Arthur to find out about his past like that. Yet, he felt that it might have been better that way. Still, the young American had not wanted to reveal what had happened within the vicinity of his father. His past was the reason he was so cheerful, just to rub it in his father's face. To tell him silently that Alfred was not going to let him control his life.

He was surprised when Arthur had embraced him. Alfred couldn't help the tears that had leaked. He had never been comforted like that, except by Ivan, and he couldn't help the wry smile on his face. Although the Russian was a known sadist, Ivan had refrained from pulling such acts during their relationship (Alfred also had to restrain the Russian from going out to murder his father). Still, this was…different. But why?

_Because it's Arthur._

_And it's because you're in _love _with Arthur._

He blushed at the revelation, glad that the blond Briton couldn't see his face.

It was also at that moment that Alfred wished he had empathy, just to see if Arthur felt the same way toward him.

***

The two had most certainly slept in the same bed, but nothing happened. Not really. No, Alfred hadn't been holding Arthur close to his body. No, it was most certainly _not_ comfortable. No, they were NOT lying, damn it!

Anyway, breakfast had gone on without a hitch, which was a relief for Alfred. He had been afraid that Arthur might have throttled Akando. The blond Briton hadn't, however. Actually, he had remained civil with Alfred and Matthew's father.

It was after lunch that they had gotten a phone call from Kiku. Alfred excused himself from the room and went outside to take the call.

"Hey, Kiku~!"

"_Alfred-san, we have a big problem here_," the Japanese man said grimly. Alfred heard something fall and shatter to the ground, which was accompanied by curses in Chinese.

"I…don't really want to know what Yao just said," Alfred commented with a nervous chuckle. Kiku rolled his eyes and shook his head, knowing perfectly well that the young American wouldn't be able to see that.

"_I don't either. The problem, Alfred-san, is that somebody had somehow managed to steal the Wand of Silence_," the blond's eyes widened. The Wand of Silence was a weapon supposedly created by the gods. Legend had it that it was able to take away sound from any place or person, but it was also able to give sound back. The wand was also supposedly able to control the element of wind.

"What?!"

"_We're looking into it right now_," Yao answered with a sigh. Alfred shook his head. That made two artifacts stolen. The first was the chalice, and now it was the Wand of Silence.

"Tell me, what was the cup we tried to retrieve called?" he heard the sound of furious typing on the other end. There was silence for a long moment before somebody answered his question.

"_It is called the Muse's Chalice_," Kiku replied, "_Legend says that it has the ability to grant not just the drinker immortality, but it is able to heighten a person's creative strengths. For example, if you drank it, Alfred-san, your singing voice would increase dramatically. Not only that, but your ability to write songs would also increase._"

"Awesome, but why would anybody want to steal it and the Wand of Silence?" Alfred asked with a frown. The two men on the other line sighed simultaneously.

"_That's what we'd like to know_," Yao said.

"_Stay on guard. We don't know what they will take next_," Kiku added. The young American nodded, although there was one thing bothering him.

"Hey…quick question. Are these thefts related to the pentagram and pentacle thefts?" the Eastern men were silent for a long while, and it made Alfred a little nervous at their answer.

"_It's possible…_" the Japanese man replied hesitantly.

"_If they are, then…what's the connection?_" Yao asked.

"I don't know, but we'll definitely be on guard, now," Alfred replied, "Thanks for telling me this, guys. Keep up the good work."

They hung up and the young American leaned against the doorframe, feeling exhausted. Just what the hell was going on?

***

BONUS SHORT (Ever wondered what was going on in France and Matthew's room during this? Well…I can't write it, because I don't wanna bump up the rating. ._. So…BLOOPER TIEM)

He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door. Alfred yelled a cheerful "Come in!" and got back to signing a paper (it was something about a new lab assisstant from China). After he signed it, a case file was thrown down on the desk. Alfred blinked and looked up at Veneziano.

"It's a brand new case~! The guys upstairs were just telling me that you should get on this ASAP," the Italian reported with a smile. Alfred looked at him blankly. Then he chuckled nervously.

"What was my line again?" Alfred asked, looking off to where the director was. She sighed heavily and leafed through the script (they only heard it, since everyone was in shadow).

"Look through the case file and say, 'Huh. Sounds like a case for a telepath.'" From the top!" the director shouted. They sighed and went back to their places. "Home Security Failure scene 1, take 3. ACTION!"

"It's a brand new case~! The guys upstairs were just telling me that you should get on this ASAP," Veneziano reported with a smile. Alfred looked through the case file.

"You did take your meds, right?"

"ALFRED!" the director shouted. Alfred gave her an innocent look.

"What?"

*

"Alfred-san, your brother is getting married to Ivan," Kiku said in a monotone voice. Alfred stayed asleep for some odd reason. They glanced at each other.

"…He didn't…" Arthur trailed off when the director came onstage and dumped a bucket of water on the American. He coughed and scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"You were asleep for this scene…AGAIN. Take this seriously, damn it!" the director said in frustration as she walked off stage. Everyone else just sighed and got back into their places (if they moved). "Let's try this again. Home Security Failure scene 2, take 115. ACTION!"

"Alfred-san, your brother is getting married to Ivan," Kiku said in a monotone voice. Alfred didn't even raise his head.

"Better him than me!" was the American's response.

"ALFRED!" the director shouted…again. Alfred raised his head and gave her an innocent look…again.

"What?"

"STICK TO THE SCRIPT!"

*

"So, it's possible that her boyfriend is behind the murder. Why are we bothering with him?" the man asked, tilting his head slightly. Alfred was silent for a while.

"Uh…I forget. Why are we bothering with him?" Alfred asked the director. She face palmed, although the other two couldn't see that.

"If you have to, improvise your damn lines!" she hissed at him. The blond American gave her the thumbs up, although something told her that he was going to pull something. "Home Security Failure scene 3, take 20. ACTION!"

"So, it's possible that her boyfriend is behind the murder. Why are we bothering with him?" Arthur asked, tilting his head slightly. The young American was staring blankly at him before he stood up and walked toward the Briton. That was when Alfred kissed Arthur full on.

"Why am I even bothering any more?" the director asked herself as the two actors started a long make-out session. She sighed.

Being a director and author at the same time sucked.


End file.
